


ScribeRim

by bamboofoxfireproductions



Category: D.Gray-man, Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Twins, Brothers, Dovahzul, Dragonborn - Freeform, Dragons, Elder Scrolls - Freeform, F/M, Fantasy, Gen, Growing Up Together, Historians, Journey, Lavi and Deak, M/M, Multi, Skyrim - Freeform, Skyrim Main Quest, Survival, Twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-02-22 16:04:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamboofoxfireproductions/pseuds/bamboofoxfireproductions
Summary: Skyrim is a land rife with terrible dangers, harsh climate, and harsher life lessons, but on the wings of the right teacher and with a good head on their soldiers, a sprawling playground of mysteries and ancient history waiting to be discovered, and history is soon to come alive in resurrected dragon bones and scorching flame.





	1. Chapter 1

**4th Era, Year 187, _The Pale_**

Bookman was an old mer and the harshest cold of the Pale and Winterhold's wild mountains always did a good job of reminding him of it. He was lament to say he couldn't help wincing a little bit at the creak in his joints as he pushed through the snow, and the fact that he was neither the tallest of anyone in either human or elf kind made it no easier.

Weary eyes turned skyward as snowflakes continued to fall, gentle in their descent, but only adding to his troubles nonetheless. He was getting too old for this, especially for continuing his work at such an old age without any sort of students to pass on his work. He was, however, without any suitable students.

Those of the College were comparably young to him, but still old enough that retraining some of their skills and habits, to say nothing of their other interests, was a task he wasn't keen on undertaking. Perhaps he might find someone far younger in other settlements, but parents were often protective of their young and wary of strangers, and to even those who knew him, wary of the dangers outside their villages.

He supposed his easiest option would be to travel to Riften and see what untapped potentials Honorhall might have there. Surely even Grelad the Kind must feel overwhelmed at times of all her young and orphaned charges, and glad to find one among them a suitable caregiver to take them off her hands. One less mouth to feed. Certainly it would likely be better in her eyes than them falling into doing work for the local Thieves.

He supposes he's lingered already in the cold too long, continuing his path up the snowy hill between the rise of two jagged peaks. Just beyond the slope of Wayward Pass would be Nightgate Inn, a far more forgiving distance than heading all the way to either Windhelm or Whiterun to finally warm himself and sleep somewhere he might actually awaken the next morning.

The arch of the pass's zenith provides some relief from the wind, and Bookman takes his while to observe the frozen skeletal remains of an ancient traveler that he has passed many a time heading to and fro the ancient Dwemer ruin of Alftand, keeping eternal vigil in honor.

It's a moment that he pauses, over the remains and in observance of the small stone shrine to Arkay. While never one who would be caught devoutly attending any of Skyrim's many temples to the Divines, be it whether he accepts Eight or the Nine that Men believe so strongly in, neither is he one to take for chance the ill-fated hazards of the climate. He wouldn't necessarily call it faith so much as insurance. He loses nothing for giving a moment of attention to the supposed God of Life and Death, but perhaps he might gain an extra year for paying proper reverence every now and again. The irony of such a shrine placed beside a frozen skeleton is not lost to an old elf's eyes.

"Blessed Arkay, please grant me safe passage from the north, that I might continue my work until I have a worthy heir who will see it continued through many ages following mine."

Respects given, in word or in silence to both Arkay and the traveler in rest eternal, his sights turn to the other side of the pass, a far easier path to traverse, but still hazardous all the same with the slickness of frozen earth.

The journey, slow-going as it is, is ultimately worth it once the glittering, half-frozen pond and solitary inn finally comes into view, it's thatched roof buried as it is. What he notices most is the smell of smoke wafting in the air, only faintly traceable through the bitter, frosted wind. Far behind the lonely inn stands more jagged mountains climbing far into the sky, none moreso than the towering behemoth that is High Hrothgar and the Throat of the World standing between Whiterun and The Rift.

Nightgate is a considerably small inn of typical cobblestone-walled design, tucked away amongst snow-covered firs, glistening snowberry bushes, and half-buried mammoth bones poking out of the snowdrifts, and the first impression of the inside is equally as humbling.

The apparent size of the place is nothing worth worrying over when the heat from the fire and smell of fresh baked goods, cooked meats, and spiced stews reaches the senses however. Somewhere underlying that comes the familiar scent of garlic, dried frost miriam and elves ear so common in Nord homes. Less welcomed is the slow, thawing realization of cold still nipping at his fingers and face, and once again Bookman is reminded of his age with a reluctant sigh.

The innkeeper, an older man by Hadrig sporting a long scar and a blind eye to compliment his rugged beard, welcomes him in with curt friendliness and vague familiarity.

"Welcome. Feel free to take a seat by the fire. I'm sure I can still find a clean mug around here somewhere for something warm to soothe you after your journey."

"Thank you," Bookman offers roughly, immediately scouring the room for a chair to pull up beside the fire. When he finds it, he makes himself at home. Nightgate doesn't have a large hearth like many of the other inns, but anything is better than being exposed to the elements at this point. A quick glance tells him that among the other occupants is only a dark elf, probably a mercenary by the looks of it, and an aged, grumpy breton. "I would very much appreciate it. Some stew if you would as well, any kind."

Hadrig nods understanding and stands from where he had been leaning over the counter, calling over the rickety wood railings of the stairs leading to the second level underground.

"Boys! We have a customer! Dish up some of that hunter's stew."

There's a soft thunk somewhere, which Bookman's trained ears immediately identify as a book smacking shut, unmistakable with how often he himself has delved into literature of all manner. Its followed by the light thump of two pairs of feet hopping up the stairs, in a flash of bright orange hair the dark can't quite hide even in the deep shadows of the dancing firelight.

Bookman appraises the two who appear, both young males, probably breton if his eyes have yet to fail him. Oddly enough, they're identical in appearance, all the way down to their closed right eyes, but their left eyes are contrasted in sharp, intelligent green. His first wonder is who and where their mother is. They're not familiar from any previous visits, albeit it has been quite a few years, and there is no local woman he's ever seen here that he could make a guess at having had them by looks alone.

They watch him back with an almost unnerving dualty, almost like a mirror of the other, but there's something about the way they look him over in bold inquisition that he decides he likes. Just as quickly as they come to give him his bowl of stew, they're gone again towards the stairs, and yet not once do their eyes leave him, especially one more than the other. He wonders where they're off to in such a hurry, and then he remembers the sound of a book. Perhaps they have an interesting story to get back to, which must mean they can read, or at least try to.

"Are those boys yours?" Its very blunt and direct, but Bookman has never been one to mince words on meaningless chatter.

"I suppose you could say that," Hadrig hums. "I've let them stay here the last couple of years, help with things at the inn here and there, but they're not my children."

"Is that so?" Bookman humors, pausing to sip down a spoonful of his food before deciding conversation would be a good way to pass the time while it cools anyway. "I'm guessing from how you speak of it that they aren't children of your relatives either."

Hadrig seems to catch on that his interest isn't merely idle curiosity for curiosity's sake.

"A traveler brought them here a few years ago, found them out in the wilds while they were hunting, near-frozen as wee babes and brought them here to get them warm. They've been here ever since then, and I've let them stay until they're old enough to go out on their own, maybe pick up work as apprentices to someone in Windhelm in a few years' time."

Bookman nodded his understanding. They were still very young, easily told by their size, but there's still something admittedly skittish, he'd go so far as to say reminiscent of _feral_ to their mannerisms. He wouldn't say Hadrig was any sort of cruel to them, but perhaps not overly familial and attached either. More that he was offering temporary shelter to a few stray cats until they're fit to leave again, especially with the harsh north being so treacherous a place to merely send them out on their own.

"If you're not terribly set on having them stay past a couple more years, then perhaps I would be doing you a favor in taking them further south with me. Somewhere with better opportunities than out here." He's not entirely sure yet if they would be fit to take on being his apprentices, either now or in the future, but perhaps his small prayer to Arkay is being answered more readily than he would have anticipated.

"Well I certainly won't complain, but I'm not their father. I can't force them to go with anyone they don't want to, and they've already got a few promising options to think about in Windhelm. You're free to go down and discuss it with them if you wish."

Bookman nodded his understanding. It was as he suspected then. While perhaps not exactly _eager_ to be rid of them, he wasn't reluctant either. It was a matter he didn't care to either solve or hinder at his own expense.

Taking his while to warm up and eat first, Bookman took up Hadrig's offer to see the two, heading down the stairs. The space below was lit by the glow of an oven, wafting the scents of fresh bread and pastries. Off to the side of it was a table, holding a few plates of fresh goods and a couple of books.

It took only a moment of looking and glancing around the other side of the oven to find the boys curled up together in the corner behind it, backs pressed to the warm stone with a book open between them.

Bookman didn't interrupt at first, instead walking to the larger wood table to take a look at what choice of literature they had to peruse. Among them, he found _The Madmen of the Reach_ , _Report: Disaster at Ionith_ , _Troll Slaying_ , _Fall from Glory_ , _The Great War_ , and _Rising Threat Vol II_ ; all titles he was familiar with. While there were far more difficult reads among Tamriel's literature, many of which Bookman had had the pleasure of delving into in his time at the College's Arcaneum, they were certainly nothing easy to read and understand for children who could be no older than eight at most.

"Tell me," he interrupts, though it's not much of an interruption from what he can tell, each of their single eyes already on him. "What book are you reading now?"

They give each other a silent glance, as if wondering whether to even humor the old High Elf with their time, before looking back at him and shrugging.

"Th' Bear of Markarth," one of them answers. He seems the bolder of the two, if anything were to be told between them, and he thinks it's probably the one who was watching him more intensely than the other before.

"And do you know what it says?" Bookman inquired.

The same boy who answered nodded his head, while the other merely watched Bookman curiously.

"I' talks about Ulfric Stormcloak an' when he attacked Markarth t' take it back from the Forsworn natives that lived in the Reach, an' that's how Skyrim got to be stuck in a Civil War 'cuz Ulfric demanded free Talos worship 'fore he'd give Markarth back to the Empire an' made the Aldmeri D'minion mad 'bout the White-Gold Cucordit."

" _Con_ cordit," Bookman corrected. Still, for what youthful lack of more difficult words the boy had, Bookman had to admit that he was just a touch impressed with how quickly and easily the boy recited the contents of the book. "And you read this all by yourselves?" After all, he could simply be repeating what he was told the book talked about, but somehow Bookman didn't think it was only that.

"Mhm."

"I see…" Bookman hummed, turning his gaze to the stacks of books. "And all of these as well?"

Both nodded at his inquiry, the other one who remained silent sitting up a little more attentively.

"Do the two of you enjoy reading and learning new things?"

It was the second boy who answered him, this time with a quick nod and a slightly friendlier glance than the other.

"My brother and I read all sorts of books. We've read those ones at least a dozen times an' a bunch more in Windhelm when we go down there t'help make deliveries an' things."

Bookman hums at the boy's enthusiasm, and notices how sharply the other keeps his eye on him.

"If you've read lots of books, then you probably know what a scholar is, correct?" It might not be an accurate guess, but he hopes so. It would make explaining himself much easier.

"A scholar is some'on' who reads a lot an' sometimes writes books on things they know about 'at other people don't, isn' it?" The two glance at each other as if to reaffirm this, the more enthusiastic one nodding with a smile before they return to looking at Bookman.

"That's correct. A scholar is someone who studies and learns all about the world, often about mysteries ill understood by others, who crave new knowledge and discoveries. I'm only one of many who has devoted their life to this, and I'm wondering if perhaps the two of you might be interested in doing the same with your lives."

They blink at him in perfect unison, glance at each other again, and seem to give it a moment of serious thought, as though the possibility never occurred to them, but neither did it cross their minds they _wouldn't want to_.

One of them, the more enthusiastic, nudges the other in the ribs as if to say _we have to do it_ , voice coming in a whisper that isn't quite quiet enough to conceal.

"Can we really?"

The other hums under his breath, eye downcast at the floor for a moment, then back to Bookman in question.

"Aren't scholars all old, stuffy guys?"

Bookman could almost laugh. Such blunt statements that could only come from a child.

"A scholar is anyone who wishes to learn the world the way no one else does and see things never seen before, and then show their findings to anyone who will pick up the book they've written about it. The sooner you start, the wiser you'll be when you're old."

"It is fun being smart…" one of them mutters under their breath, and receives a soft elbow jab immediately after.

"So how d'we be scholars?"

"First," Bookman begins, "You find yourselves a teacher."

There's a small pause, and then, "And that's you?"

"If that's what you want me to be."

"And then what?"

"Then, I teach you things no one else can, so that you can go on to see and learn things no one else before has. Do you wish to become my apprentices and see all the secrets Skyrim has to offer?"

There's only a moment of hesitation, exchanged glances, gnawed lips, before they come to an unspoken, mutual decision and nod.

"We do."

"Very well," Bookman nods his approval, and silently thanks whatever Divines or Daedra decided their meeting should happen. "Then I accept you both as heirs to Bookman."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note, I base some of this a little bit off of modded Skyrim, and while much of what I have isn't inherently lore-breaking in any way, there might be some differences in things like locations or world details that might throw you if you only play console or vanilla Skyrim. Just a little side note. Probably the most overt mods I have are the Gypsy Eyes Caravan, Better Roads, Convenient Bridges, Hold Border Gates, Lanterns of Skyrim, et cetera that tweak / expand on the world a bit, but not a ton of drastic changes.

**4E 189,** _**Whiterun-Faulkreath Border** _

_COLD, COLD, COLD!  
_

"SHUT UP, DEAK." Oh, the misery of falling face-first into Lake Illinalta. He almost wishes the slaughterfish would eat him, if only to spare him the cackling of his twin brother. _Even the damn ducks are laughing at him_. The same ducks that he should've had by now to take back to camp and roast up for dinner. Instead he's soaked to the bone in cold water. Cold enough to make him miserable, _not_ cold enough to kill him. Wonderful.

And if Deak doesn't stop laughing, he swears to the Divines, _he's gonna-_

"Its not my fault you lost the bow!"

He huffs, giving Deak a dripping glare. If only it would drip with _poison_ instead of lake water. Its far less effective when he looks like a drowned rat.

"Well maybe if y'didn't almost get eaten by _mudcrabs_ I wouldn't'a lost it!"

Deak stops laughing and makes a throaty noise of indignation. " 'ose mudcrabs were each as big as I was!"

Lavi sticks his tongue out, willfully ignoring that fact in favor of continuing the argument. "Alas! My dearest brother Deak... done in by mudcrabs. Oh cruelest fate, couldst thou not have given him more fitting foes to fell him, such as a vicious and bloodthirsty pheasant?"

" _I'm telling Gramps you're picking on me!_ "

Lavi only snickers at Deak's wailing. "Tell 'im then. See if I care, _milkdrinker_."

Deak huffs, crossing his arms and narrowing his only eye, but there's a smirk there he's trying to fight. "Skeever butt."

"Snowback."

" _Fish bait_."

Lavi splashes him for that one, before fully climbing out onto the bank and trying to wring his clothing and hair out. Even for as comparatively _warm_ as Faulkreath Hold is compared to The Pale, the wind blowing down from the nearby peaks of Bleak Falls Barrow against his wet skin makes him violently shiver and hug himself. Its only a moment later there's a gloved hand in his face, his brother smiling down at him from the higher part of the dirt island in the middle of the lake.

"Le's go find a fire, 'fore I have ta go explain ta Gramps that I let ya freeze in th' lake."

Lavi rolls his eye, but grins in return, gratefully taking the hand up. He tries oh-so-hard not to let his teeth chatter at all as he and Deak cross the small stone bridge connecting the little island to the main bank on the north side of the lake. Still, things are better than they could be, with the sun clear in the sky and only obstructed by a few spatterings of clouds. There's no point in risking catching their death though, so they wander to where Lake Illinalta bleeds into the White River.

Across the rocks at the river mouth, they step lightly over wood boards that create a makeshift pathway over the water without having to wade through it, though Lavi wasn't really sure how big of a difference it would make for him either way. He was already soaked. Just across on the other side was their destination, a hunter's camp in the shadow of the cliffs.

The hunter in question, a wood elf named Ulfgar, regarded them with familiarity, as they'd come this way at least a few times now. Where there was water, after all, there were animals, be they fish, deer, or wolves. It made for as good as any place for hunting.

"Fallen into the lake, have ya?"

Lavi held his arms out to either side with a shrug, shaking droplets out of his hair. "However did ya guess?"

The wood elf gave him somewhat of a hidden smile. "Saw it plain as day for myself. Could hear your brother and the ducks from 'ere."

Lavi huffed, dropping his arms and throwing his head back. "Wonderful."

Ulfgar motioned in invitation to the fire. "Come warm yourselves up."

No matter between the two of them if they were warm or cold, dry or wet, neither was going to pass up a good fire. Ulfgar's camp was nothing more than humble, with its single leather tent and bedroll, chest, and a hanging rack for fish he'd caught and cleaned, but it was enough. In the cold, northern lands, fire would always be well-received, so long as it didn't come off the hands of some angry, spell-wielding caster.

"Hunting not going well for you two today?" Ulfgar asked, striking up idle conversation.

" _Someone-_ " Deak began, receiving a glare before he could even say the rest. "-lost their bow on our last hunting trip."

"Your fault," Lavi muttered.

"Well you can't have mine," Ulfgar jested. "Only have one and out here, I need it."

Lavi shrugged, playing nonchalant. "We'll just have to scrap up some septims and buy a new one. Elrindir's gotta have some good bows."

Deak can't help but grin, nudging Lavi in the side. "Maybe 'is time if you scrape up enough, y'could try an' get one of those ember bows y'been eyeing all this time."

Lavi answers with a groan, equal parts dreamy and tormented, closing his eye. "That bow will be _mine_ one day," he whispers, like he's swearing to the Divines themselves. Deak laughs at him.

"Not good enough to have Gramps promising t' teach us fire spells soon?"

"I bet its warm on the hands..." Lavi murmurs, as if he's not even noticing Deak is there and speaking to him.

Deak snorts and shakes his head, looking at Ulfgar. " _He really wants that bow_."

" _It'll be mine,_ " Lavi whispers again.

Ulfgar chuckles. "Its good to have goals. Gives yourself something to aim for so the days don't get too dull."

The two boys nodded and settled down to sit by the fire, falling quiet most of the time as they listened to Ulfgar go on about his hunting experiences. Not bored in the least, they hung on every word as tips and tricks they could use themselves, occasionally interrupting with some question or other on how to do this or that, especially on things that had given them trouble in the past.

It seemed as though many of the hunters they talked to, every one had a trick up their sleeve another did not. Being children still, young enough to not be perceived as true competition to cut into either profit or success at the hunt itself, it was a little easier to glean information on How To from most they talked to. Of course, there were still those who held their secrets close, or who had no desire to entertain the curiosities and hunger for knowledge of children.

After warming themselves well enough, they bid a temporary goodbye, as they would probably be back again given a few days' time, and headed back across the river. Deciding he'd had enough of the lake and getting laughed at by even the wildlife today, he headed up the slope instead. Maybe they'd get lucky with coming across some animal or other he could take down with his knife, but more than likely today would just be a foraging day.

Walking underneath the shaded firs, he idly runs his hands over the top points of tall, swaying grasses and ferns, keeping his eye open for any movement and ear open for any sounds. He knows that there are probably wolves about. He can hear them in the distance at night. What he's really hoping for is a pheasant or a rabbit, though he laments that he doesn't have a bow to take either down easily with. The constant sound of birds as they both lightly step through the brush, one following the other, at least reassures they probably aren't being stalked by any kind of silent hunters, such as the aforementioned wolves or, though not too common around these parts, a sabre cat.

Even as the barrow up on the mountain comes into easy view, too far too climb but seeming almost close enough to touch, there's hardly any animals about, so they turn their attention towards gathering plants instead. Thistles and Topinella mushrooms are an easy enough find, as they work their way following the path of the river far below the drop-off of stone to their right. Its easy enough to tell without looking, as the wafting sound of the rapids below roar up the cliff side, but neither can resist the view even without needing it.

It isn't long before the two boys spot a ramshackle, run down house tucked away in the trees. Its small, only a single room, from what they can tell, and they both look at each other with deciding weariness. Explore it? Or go the other way? Each fingering their steel daggers, they silently and mutually agree to _explore_ it, but explore it with caution.

Falling into a low crouch, the two of them sneak through the brush, creeping closer and watching every footfall as if they're stalking a watchful deer. A twin pair of eyes, one between each, peers around each other and at their surroundings, Lavi's eye trained on the cabin and its immediate vicinity, while Deak's watches everywhere else.

As weathered as the place looks, it still appears to be maintained, no rogue plants up the side of it, nor the onset of lichens or mold into the wood. They barely dare breathe as they poke their noses around the long sides of the building, sticking away from easy view. After a superficial investigation of the outside, they creep to the open window and look inside to see a lantern with a small, flickering candle, the inside inhabited by a bed, some book shelves, a chair, and other furnishings.

When they finally work their way to the unoccupied front of the building, they spy a wood pile and a small garden of potato plants. Someone definitely lives here, but it didn't appear as if anyone was home.

Growing a little bit bolder, Lavi lead the way into the small shack, glancing around at all the effects inside.

Of most notable interest was a book on the end dresser of the bed, the inside cover reading _Song of the Alchemists_. By all of the ingredients Lavi had spotted laying around, among them being snowberries, death bells, frost miriam, and what he thought might be hagraven feathers, he guessed that whoever lived here must be an alchemist then. Likely they had a shack set up here to harvest the natural plants from the area to create potions. That must also be why they're not home.

Ever the curious soul and pursuer of knowledge, Lavi can't help getting drawn in to reading the pages, trespassing as they are. He holds it so Deak can see and read as well, while they both listen for any signs of someone returning in case they need to make a quick disappearance.

_Ancient Tales of the Dwemer, Part V: The Song of the Alchemists, by Marobar Sul. Book 5 of an incomplete series about the Dwemer._

_When King Maraneon's alchemist had to leave his station_  
_After a laboratory experiment that yielded detonation,_  
_The word went out that the King did want_  
_A new savant_  
_To mix his potions and brews._  
_But he declared he would only choose_  
_A fellow who knew the tricks and the tools._  
_The King refused to hire on more fools._

 _After much deliberation, discussions, and debates,_  
_The King picked two well-learned candidates._  
_Ianthippus Minthurk and Umphatic Faer,_  
_An ambitious pair,_  
_Vied to prove which one was the best._  
_Said the King, "There will be a test."_  
_They went to a large chamber with herbs, gems, tomes,_  
_Pots, measuring cups, all under high crystalline domes._

 _"Make me a tonic that will make me invisible,"_  
_Laughed the King in a tone some would call risible._  
_So Umphatic Faer and Ianthippus Minthurk_  
_Began to work,_  
_Mincing herbs, mashing metal, refining strange oils,_  
_Cautiously setting their cauldrons to burbling boils,_  
_Each on his own, sending mixing bowls mixing,_  
_Sometimes peeking to see what the other was fixing._

 _After they had worked for nearly three-quarters an hour,_  
_Both Ianthippus Minthurk and Umphatic Faer_  
_Winked at the other, certain he won._  
_Said King Maraneon,_  
_"Now you must taste the potions you've wrought,_  
_Take a spoon and sample it right from your pot."_  
_Minthurk vanished as his lips touched his brew,_  
_But Faer tasted his and remained apparent in view._

 _"You think you mixed silver, blue diamonds, and yellow grass!"_  
_The King laughed, "Look up, Faer, up to the ceiling glass._  
_The light falling makes the ingredients you choose_  
_Quite different hues."_  
_"What do you get," asked the floating voice, bold,_  
_"Of a potion of red diamonds, blue grass, and gold?"_  
_"By [Dwemer God]," said Faer, his face in a wince,_  
_"I've made a potion to fortify my own intelligence."_

Lavi and Deak couldn't help snickering in unison, having to pause and cover their mouths, choking back their breath to listen in case anyone might have heard them. When it seemed there was still no one about, they continued.

_Publisher's Note:_

_This poetry is so clearly in the style of Gor Felim that it really does not need any commentary. Note the simple rhyming scheme of AA/BB/CC, the sing-song but purposefully clumsy meter, and the recurring jokes at the obviously absurd names, Umphatic Faer and Ianthippus Minthurk. The final joke that the stupid alchemist invents a potion to make himself smarter by pure accident would have appealed to the anti-intellectualism of audiences in the Interregnum period, but would certainly be rejected by the Dwemer._

_Note that even "Marobar Sul" refuses to name any Dwemer gods. The Dwemer religion, if it can even be called that, is one of the most complex and difficult puzzles of their culture._

_Over the millennia, the song became a popular tavern song in High Rock before eventually disappearing from everything but scholarly books. Much like the Dwemer themselves._

Setting the book back in its place, careful to nudge it as close to the exact position it had been found in, the two decided they'd lingered long enough and set back out. Maybe they'd run into whoever owned the cabin out in the woodland. Perhaps not. Perhaps not became the truth of the matter, as they returned to scouring for plants to gather.

Towards the later part of day, as Riverwood and, conversely, their camp just outside it starts to come into view, Lavi pauses for a moment and stands up tall, listening. Deak makes a small noise of question behind him, trying to peak up around his shoulder and whisper.

" _What is it?_ "

Lavi's silent for a moment before brightening. "Hear that? _Nirnroot._ " He doesn't wait for Deak, leaping to follow the sound towards the river's edge. He'd _seen_ that Nirnroot before, from the other side of the river, but last he'd tried to reach it by going across the rapids, he'd fallen in and been swept halfway to Whiterun. He had no luck with water, as it seemed.

There it was, underneath a mud bank with roots dangling into the water, gripping the shallows of the river's edge in its blue-green and gold hues that radiated white light, beckoning with the ringing sound it made. With a deft flick of his knife, Lavi severed the plant from its base roots, leaving the rest behind to eventually sprout a new fern, and tucked the now-silent plant away into his back with the rest of the herbs he'd gathered.

Feeling triumphant he's finally managed to get that one plant that's been _taunting him_ all this time, sound and all, they continue down towards the stone bridge that will take them through Riverwood. Its just their luck they come across a fox pinned down under a trap, the two circling to different sides and being careful to move in only when they can grab it and not get bitten. Its a quick, clean cut with a blade to its throat and a hand on its scruff that has it dead within only a few minutes and unconscious much faster.

Its not the meal they were hoping for, but its something to fill their stomachs, and the pelt will sell for some septims later.

The last thing they do is refill their water skins at the falls where snow melt bleeds down from the barrow's mountain, crossing the bridge into town and their camp on the other side.

 _Camp_ is a horse-drawn carriage house, beds set up on one side with an overhang of cloth for a tent. Bookman awaits them with a warm fire and a cooking pot, which is already full and waiting for them to return to eat. Just off to the side of their caravan are two horses, one black and the other as bright orange as their own hair.

Bookman regards both calmly, but there's still a certain degree he seems to relax when they return, looking them up and down for any signs of misadventure.

"So, how did it go?"

They hold up the fox, shrugging a bit.

"We tried ta catch ducks but that didn't work. We only managed ta wrangle this fox and gather up some herbs from the woodland."

Bookman gave them both a nod, returning to stirring the pot of hot food and dish it up. "So is life. Some days the hunt is good, others not. Why don't you both take a seat and rest? I'm sure you must have been all over Tamriel by now." They were young, after all, and too curious. Bookman worried some about that, but it was also what he took them on for. There was no use in coddling over them, only in preparing them to set out on whatever plans they had for that day, and hopefully whatever surprises it had in store.

"Also Lavi fell in the- _ow_!"

Lavi gave him a hiss to shut up, not the least bit sorry for hitting his shoulder. Hadn't he suffered _enough_ embarrassment today? Apparently not, by the grin Deak gives him before crying out, "Gramps! Lavi's picking on me!"

Bookman sighs aloud and shakes his head.

" _Mey kiir_."

Both Lavi and Deak pause, giving each other a look of question before Lavi shrugs and shakes his head helplessly. Bookman gives them their bowls and the two sit down on the edge of a cot while he gathers his own meal. Its still hot, so after a quick, experimental taste, they wait for it to cool some first.

" _I think maybe it was elvish,_ " Deak whispers uncertainly, but its not soft enough to escape Bookman's ears, old or no.

"If I was going to insult you in any elven tongue it would be _s'wit gei,_ " Bookman corrected casually, ignoring the indignant noises of both boys. "No. It was an entirely different tongue."

Still looking a little insulted, they narrowed an eye at him incredulously. "Well it's nothin' we ever heard 'fore."

"No, I don't imagine you would have. Even finding its roots in these lands, its a very old language and rarely used by more than a few anymore." He pauses a moment to sip at his stew, before opening his eyes at the two boys levelly. "Would you like to learn it?"

They give each other a glance. "Like our own secret language?" It was definitely appealing. They could talk without caring about people hearing them, including plan to do things. Pulling jokes was always fun, and always ruined if someone caught on too fast.

Bookman only hummed, nodding. "Like your own secret language."

"We wanna learn!"

" _Hi los vahzen deinmaar nu_ ," Bookman hummed. "You are truth keepers now. Is best that you learn sooner than later."


	3. Chapter 3

Clear skies as far as the eye could see, which really depended on where one was in Skyrim, but leaving the area of Riverwood into the vast, open tundra of Whiterun Hold at Skyrim's center, it was far indeed. No distant or near clouds threatened rain or snow at any but the highest mountain elevations, and even that looked to be sparse, if there was any at all.

The high mountains were not the only thing stretching far up into the sky. As the road twisted and turned down the slope, Dragon's Reach stretched high above the tundra, a towering monument in otherwise flat lands. The cobblestone walls and muted gold-scaled rooftops of the city stood in strong silhouette against bright blue sky. Even from such a distance, eve the brought ribbed pillars that granted access to Dragon's Reach Keep were easily visible to their single eyes, small drifts of smoke rising from chimneys of houses and smelters alike.

The White River falls roared to the right of them as the road followed its course downhill, salmon occasionally leaping up the rapids. Looking across the water and up, the great Throat of the World, Skyrim's most enormous behemoth of a mountain, stood taller than ever in contrast with the lowlands of Whiterun.

Far below where their path finally flattened out, easily seen from astride each of their horses, one a large black Fell pony and the other a bright orange Haflinger horse, were various farms and windmills dotting the landscape all the way around Whiterun city's edge. Largest of all the external structures were two tall buildings side-by-side where the road forked: Honningbrew Meadery. Even from the road just a few horse-lengths shy of it, they could both smell the scent of mead strongly permeating the surrounding air. Each wrinkled their nose a bit at the overpowering waft, which could surely get anyone contact drunk standing around it long enough if such a thing were possible.

Passing between farms and the shallow creek which bled from Whiterun's ever flowing aqueducts and sewers, and the Pelagia Farm, they turned off towards the main city, passing up the stables in favor of stopping their horses by the front gate and sliding down. The guards only gave them brief, disinterested glances as they passed and headed through the gates into the city.

The scents of Whiterun were far different from those out in the Riverwood wilds. The smell of human sweat permeated the air more strongly, dogs barking in the streets and a gray, collared feline prowling underneath the portico of the local blacksmithing shop.

They could immediately smell the acrid stench of hot coals burning and metal being melted and cooled at the forge off to their immediate right, while older wood scraps and ash burned in braziers set about the streets to provide light. At this time of day, they were burning low and untended, probably what was left over from the night before. An undertone of cold stone and thick, old moss hung underneath hints of smoke and whiffs of cooked meat carried faintly on the breeze. Less pleasing was the slight, sour touch of waste produced by such an enclosed population.

Someone nearby was working a sword over a grindstone, apparent by the sound of stone and metal screeching against each other without even having to look, while someone else was working a blade over a stretched pelt to strip away the most of the hairs and make it into leather for helping piece together weapons and armor.

The further in they walked, the more noticeable how many _people_ there were became. There were at least three smith workers immediately noticeable as they entered, and a couple of guards near the entrance lazing about against big stone pillars. An old lady wandered from the lower district towards the upper, while two others, one a lizard-like Argonian who might be a hunter or treasure seeker, wandered down towards the city square.

Among all the people they immediately passed, Lavi noted the aforementioned and others, including a girl who looked to be a few years older than them in a white and brown dress, an older lady with a head covering, at least five laborers, a priest who may or may not be local, and a patrolling guard, to say nothing for all of the pigeons they also passed by.

They headed immediately for the very first building ahead and on the left, slightly elevated up onto a hill, its heavy wooden doors decorated with metal hinges in the shape of long dragons and its wooden surface carved in the likeness of huge flowers. Inside the smell of cooked meats and spices came upon them more strongly, and an elven accent greeted them straight away.

"Welcome to the Drunken Huntsman, boys. What do you need?"

The two young twins wandered up to the counter and hefted a few animal furs for Elrinder - the wood elf - to inspect, lifting themselves up a big higher with arms resting on the wooden counter.

"What can ya give us for these?"

Elrinder hummed and looked over what they had, inspecting them carefully before straightening up. "I can give you 4 septims for the two smaller ones. The bigger one is in very nice condition... so I'd be willing to put forth 15 on it."

The two exchanged a glance before shrugging and nodding their agreement, taking what they could happily.

"By the way-" Lavi piped in, leaning further over the counter than his brother, easily grabbing Elrinder's attention. "Do you still have that bow?" He cast a glance over his shoulder, as if afraid of being overheard, and dropped his voice a bit. "Th' one that's enchanted wit' the fire?"

"Ah, yes. The bow of embers. However could you let me forget?" Elrinder jested, guiding them over to where it and other, better items were tucked away. "If you have 361 septims, then its yours. If not, well... hopefully no one else comes to claim it first."

Lavi bit his lip, knowing for a fact they didn't have that many septims. Not _yet_ , anyway, but they would. They'd have to really work for them, but they would. His eye spied other points of interest however as well, hovering near a couple of hunting knives with polished black surfaces, one ebony and one he hadn't seen before, but it almost seemed to glow with small red veins in the metal.

"What about these?" They looked like they'd get _much_ better quality pelts than the orcish hunting knife they had now would.

"I'm afraid those are definitely out of your pay grade. The ebony knife is 709 septims, and the daedric one is 1456 septims. I'm hard pressed to find a buyer even with many of the more experienced hunters who come through here."

" _Damn,_ " Lavi muttered. He definitely wanted the bow more, and it was far closer within his reach, but he really liked the blades too. Oh well. Maybe in a few years' time, if any such blades still existed to be bought. Huffing, he turned and sauntered towards the door. Might as well get a jump on earning enough septims for at _least_ the bow, since he'd been after that already anyway.

"Come on, Deak!"

"I'm coming!"

They left the Drunken Huntsman and headed further in towards the city square, stopping at a large wooden board strewn with various pieces of paper, pinned so as not to be taken away by the wind, Lavi began flicking through them looking for a job posting of interest. Many of them seemed to be things like _collect hagraven feathers_ or _gather a bunch of soul gems_ or _deliver a weapon to somewhere far away_. Things either too distant to be of interest or too much of a hassle. He didn't think Gramps would want them going and hunting down feathers to pluck off of some nasty hagraven. They'd more likely end up ingredients in some kind of twisted witches brew, and traveling too far with a valuable weapon was just asking to get robbed.

One finally caught his eye. A simple letter delivery to Rorikstead. It wasn't exactly close, but it wasn't as hazardously far as it could be either. They were offering 50 septims. They could probably be there and back again by the next morning if they took their horses. With Deak peeking over his shoulder, he read where to find the one who posted the job and folded the parchment carefully, going to find them. As they were one of the merchants in the city square, it wasn't difficult, and after receiving half the payment up front - 25 septims - and the letter to be delivered, they headed up to the Skyforge to have their weapons checked.

Bookman was always teaching them all sorts of things, with no exception to important places and people. The Companions was a warrior faction headquartered in Whiterun Hold, where many fighter types came to test their mettle against each other and the dangers of the region, for some reasonable pay of course. Overlooking the great, decorated hall the Companions called Jorrvaskr was a massive stone eagle, finely carved out of grey rock, and beneath its stone talons, a pit of molten coals and metal that created a bubbling liquid-fire pool. It was said that Skyforge steel is some of the finest in all of Skyrim, and Eorlund Gray-Mane was the blacksmith currently in charge of it.

According to Bookman and all known records of the Skyforge, no one knew who actually built it. It had already existed before the official settling and foundation of Whiterun Hold, discovered by Jeek of the River, one of the captains under Ysgrimmor and the Five Hundred, some time during the Merethic Era. The Elven kind at the time considered it to be mysterious and full of power, fearing and avoiding it. Jorrvaskr itself was created from the overturned hull of Jeek's ship, which they could still easily see plain as day for what it used to be as they passed the building. It was curious to wonder if the shields lining the edge of the roof were the very same as those that once decorated the side of the ship all those ages ago. Likely not, but it was interesting to think about.

Running up the steps to the forge itself, they were greeted by an aging man, the aforementioned Eorland Gray-Mane himself.

"What can I do for you boys? Come here to see the famous Skyforge steel?"

They each shook their head, shifting a bit before taking their daggers out of their sheathes and holding them out. "We wanted to have our weapons looked at, cuz we're traveling a long ways an' we wanna make sure we're prepared. They say you're the best blacksmith in Whiterun, so who better to look at them?"

"And do you have any septims to pay for that?"

They blinked innocently, shaking their heads as if they didn't know such a requirement for his services existed.

Eorland hummed under his breath, eyeing the two with hands on his hips. "You think you can come up here, bat your young little eyes, and get me to service your weapons for you just like that?"

The two of them pause, glance at each other, and then nod back at Eorland as if it truly is that simple. The older man chuckles and shakes his head, but concedes.

"Well... alright. I'll do it this once, but the next time, I expect to be paid fairly for doing this. Is that a deal?"

"We will!" Deak chirps immediately, both of them standing obediently still as he takes their daggers and begins inspecting them, sitting down at his grindstone.

Lavi and Deak occupy themselves in the meantime with an old book sitting just off to the side of the Skyforge, _The Armorer's Challenge_ , warming themselves up next to the heat of the forge for the journey ahead.

_Three hundred years ago, when Katariah became Empress, the first and only Dunmer to rule all of Tamriel, she faced opposition from the Imperial Council. Even after she convinced them that she would be the best regent to rule the Empire while her husband Pelagius sought treatment for his madness, there was still conflict. In particular from the Duke of Vengheto, Thane Minglumire, who took a particular delight in exposing all of the Empress's lack of practical knowledge._

_In this particular instance, Katariah and the Council were discussing the unrest in Black Marsh and the massacre of Imperial troops outside the village of Armanias. The sodden swampland and the sweltering climate, particular in summertide, would endanger the troops if they wore their usual armor._

_"I know a very clever armorer," said Katariah, "His name is Hazadir, an Argonian who knows the environments our army will be facing. I knew him in Vivec where he was a slave to the master armorer there, before he moved to the Imperial City as a freedman. We should have him design armor and weaponry for the campaign."_

_Minglumire gave a short, barking laugh: "She wants a slave to design the armor and weaponry for our troops! Sirollus Saccus is the finest armorer in the Imperial City. Everyone knows that."_

_After much debate, it was finally decided to have both armorers contend for the commission. The Council also elected two champions of equal power and prowess, Nandor Beraid and Raphalas Eul, to battle using the arms and armaments of the real competitors in the struggle. Whichever champion won, the armorer who supplied him would earn the Imperial commission. It was decided that Beraid would be outfitted by Hazadir, and Eul by Saccus._

_The fight was scheduled to commence in seven days._

_Sirollus Saccus began work immediately. He would have preferred more time, but he recognized the nature of the test. The situation in Armanias was urgent. The Empire had to select their armorer quickly, and once selected, the preferred armorer had to act swiftly and produce the finest armor and weaponry for the Imperial army in Black Marsh. It wasn't just the best armorer they were looking for. It was the most efficient._

_Saccus had only begun steaming the half-inch strips of black virgin oak to bend into bands for the flanges of the armor joints when there was a knock at his door. His assistant Phandius ushered in the visitor. It was a tall reptilian of common markings, a dull, green-fringed hood, bright black eyes, and a dull brown cloak. It was Hazadir, Katariah's preferred armorer._

_"I wanted to wish you the best of luck on the — is that ebony?"_

_It was indeed. Saccus had bought the finest quality ebony weave available in the Imperial City as soon as he heard of the competition and had begun the process of smelting it. Normally it was a six-month procedure refining the ore, but he hoped that a massive convection oven stoked by white flames born of magicka would shorten the operation to three days. Saccus proudly pointed out the other advancements in his armory. The acidic lime pools to sharpen the blade of the dai-katana to an unimaginable degree of sharpness. The Akaviri forge and tongs he would use to fold the ebony back and forth upon itself. Hazadir laughed._

_"Have you been to my armory? It's two tiny smoke-filled rooms. The front is a shop. The back is filled with broken armor, some hammers, and a forge. That's it. That's your competition for the millions of gold pieces in Imperial commission."_

_"I'm sure the Empress has some reason to trust you to outfit her troops," said Sirollus Saccus, kindly. He had, after all, seen the shop and knew that what Hazadir said was true. It was a pathetic workshop in the slums, fit only for the lowliest of adventurers to get their iron daggers and cuirasses repaired. Saccus had decided to make the best quality regardless of the inferiority of his rival. It was his way and how he became the best armorer in the Imperial City._

_Out of kindness, and more than a bit of pride, Saccus showed Hazadir how, by contrast, things should be done in a real professional armory. The Argonian acted as an apprentice to Saccus, helping him refine the ebony ore, and to pound it and fold it when it cooled. Over the next several days, they worked together to create a beautiful dai-katana with an edge honed sharp enough to trim a mosquito's eyebrows, enchanted with flames along its length by one of the Imperial Battlemages, as well as a suit of armor of bound wood, leather, silver, and ebony to resist the winds of Oblivion._

_On the day of the battle, Saccus, Hazadir, and Phandius finished polishing the armor and brought in Raphalas Eul for the fitting. Hazadir left only then, realizing that Nandor Beraid would be at his shop shortly to be outfitted._

_The two warriors met before the Empress and Imperial Council in the arena, which had been flooded slightly to simulate the swampy conditions of Black Marsh. From the moment Saccus saw Eul in his suit of heavy ebony and blazing dai-katana and Beraid in his collection of dusty, rusted lizard-scales and spear from Hazadir's shop, he knew who would win. And he was right._

_The first blow from the dai-katana lodged in Beraid's soft shield, as there was no metal trim to deflect it. Before Eul could pull his sword back, Beraid let go of the now-flaming shield, still stuck on the sword, and poked at the joints of Eul's ebony armor with his spear. Eul finally retrieved his sword from the ruined shield and slashed at Beraid, but his light armor was scaled and angled, and the attacks rolled off into the water, extinguishing the dai-katana's flames. When Beraid struck at Eul's feet, he fell into the churned mud and was unable to move. The Empress, out of mercy, called a victor._

_Hazadir received the commission and thanks to his knowledge of Argonian battle tactics and weaponry and how best to combat them, he designed implements of war that brought down the insurrection in Armanias. Katariah won the respect of Council, and even, grudgingly, that of Thane Minglumire. Sirollus Saccus went to Morrowind to learn what Hazadir learned there, and was never heard from again._

Even once they were finished with the book, Eorland was still busy at work with their knives, so they got up to find something else to occupy their attention with. Said entertainment came in the form of watching another boy about their own age, with deep black hair, sword-fighting with someone far older using wooden swords. Lavi gave Deak a small, playful elbow nudge before moving forward to sit on the small cliff edge to watch. Deak wasn't far behind in joining him.

Seeing the other young boy charging with his entire body every time he swung his sword or clumsily try to adjust his too-big helmet when it spun slightly the wrong way to obstruct his view was worth a few snickers.

The _clack, clack, clack_ of wood striking filled the air dully as the kid flailed about, and Lavi couldn't help cupping his hands over his mouth and calling down, " _Did a tree in a windstorm teach ya how to fight?_ "

That quickly and easily put a halt to the little _"sword fight"_ going on and drew attention on both red-haired youngsters. It took a few seconds for the black-haired boy below to gather his breath enough to retort, still trying to push his helmet back into place and keep it there, as if it was suddenly going to stop being too big for him.

"And just who're you?"

"Someon' who knows how ta be far more threatenin' than you, apparently," Lavi dug, folding one leg over the other and leaning over it condescendingly, smiling too-big. He could see even from a distance that his comments weren't appreciated, and that was just fine by him.

"You're not a threat. Just annoying."

"That so?" Lavi called down with a hum. "An' jus' what would you know about _'threatening'_ anyhow? You ever even stepped outside o' these walls 'fore? Bet y'haven't. We' been all over from up in th' hazardous Pale t' all the way around Faulkreath." Well, he wasn't exactly _lying_ but he might have been exaggerating by implication just a little bit. He's technically only ever gone around the edge of Lake Illinalta and to Helgen to pick up odd jobs and supplies. And the Pale, well… he mostly just stayed around the inn.

The boy below finally takes the too-big helmet off, trying to hold it under his arm casually, but even then it looks ridiculous. He doesn't seem to notice at all as he focuses pale blue eyes on the brothers, bristling at the words being spoken to him. He doesn't lash out, however. Instead, after a moment he gives a sweet smile, tucking a strand of messy black hair behind his ear before tilting his head a bit to the side.

"I've traveled far beyond these walls," he starts, giggling. "Farther than you ever will! But I digress; what's your names?"

"Playin' pretend don't count as goin' to far away places," Lavi retorts, sticking his tongue out for good measure. He considers the earlier bristling as a victory despite the boastful words, giving a cocky smile to show it. "Bet'cha can't even name 'ose places." He sits up more and crosses his arms over his small chest, sizing the other up from above. _He bets he could take him in a scrap._

"Anyway," Lavi continues, thumbing at himself. "Th' name's Lavi!"

"An' I'm Deak!" his brother chirps, leaning in to Lavi's side in a way that almost bowls him over from his perch, leading Lavi to shove him and Deak to playfully shove back again.

The black-haired boy slicks his hair back, sticking his tongue out and narrowing his eyes. "Its not playing pretend! I've been places! Like Windhelm!"

They can't help but grin in unison, Lavi idly leaning an arm on Deak's shoulder next to him and making a throaty sound of amusement. "Just Windhelm, huh? We been all over, to Windhelm-"

"-and Riverwood-" Deak adds in, to further prove his point.

"All around Faulkreath."

"Helgen."

"An' soon, we're gonna go all the way to Solitude too!" Lavi boasts. Its a lie. He and Deak are only going as far as Rorikstead, but the other boy won't know that. Its all the same direction anyway, just not quite as far.

The black-haired wood swinger's eyes widen listening to all the places they've been, then he puffs his cheeks out and huffs aloud, looking as though he's trying to think of other places and coming up empty. Ultimately, he crosses his arms over his chest and turns away from them as if refusing to speak to them for a moment, but his attention is quick to return.

"Lavi and Deak, huh? I'm Douglas, but... you can call me Doug, and what do you _do_ exactly?"

"We're seasoned adventurers!" they both pipe at once.

"Goin' out, hunting foxes and wolves..." Lavi brags, pausing to stand up on his rock, raising his arms and curling his fingers like claws, deepening his voice into a guttural growl, "And bears!"

Doug actually squeaks and recoils a bit when Lavi raises himself up, only proving what the two of them already suspected. If he's gone outside the walls, he hasn't gone very far or seen very much. Doug recollects himself, but not fast enough to stop Lavi from looking smug.

"I bet you haven't killed a bear before. Bears are hard to kill, but sure, whatever you say."

Lavi sticks his tongue out and is ready for another retort, but he's beaten to it by Eorland interrupting as he returns with their freshly sharpened daggers.

"Here you two are. Almost good as new. Maybe even better."

Lavi grins as he takes his blade back and slips it into its sheathe, Deak taking his while to stand up and do the same.

"Thank you very much!" Deak pipes, while Lavi is already preparing to set off, eager to get paid as soon as possible so he can get that bow, before someone else does.

He does have enough time to stop and stick his tongue out at Doug for yet another time, even adding a little _bleeeeh_ into the mix. "Maybe one day you'll get a helmet that actually fits your teeny tiny head!"

"Hey! I'll grow into it!" Doug calls after them as Lavi and Deak bound from the rocks onto the steps, heading back down around Jorrvaskr. "Wait!"

Lavi didn't even need to glance back to know Doug was chasing after, easily bounding to scrabble over the ruined wall bordering Jorrvaskr's great hall and down the other side, Deak close on his heels. Even as the sermon of a Talos priest rose in every passionate shout and declaration nearby, they two brothers skidded down the small hill and broke into a run across the courtyard, past a small house and nimbly leaping over the shallow stream running through.

At the archway between the Cloud district and Plains district lower down, they stopped and lightly hugged the wall to look back, seeing Doug bounding down the stairs as fast as he's able, which - Lavi would like to have noted - he does so far less gracefully than the two of them.

"Too slow!" he calls over his shoulder, nudging Deak and laughing under his breath, "C'mon, let's ditch this guy!"

Deak looks uncertain for only a moment, glancing in an almost apologetic way back at Doug, but it quickly turns into a grin as Lavi leads the way around the corner and cuts over the aqueduct and through the shrubbery behind the Plain's District houses and the Drunken Huntsman, giving no leeway for Doug to easily catch up with them. Its easy enough with how often they run around the woodland trying to clear over large rocks and fallen trees.

Taking a sharp left down stone stairs and to the city entrance, they burst through the front gates cackling like madmen and rushing to Thuse and Regalia - their black and orange horses respectively - clamoring onto their backs in the hopes of disappearing before Doug can even see where they went. They aren't quite that fast, as Doug bursts out after them, but they're far enough ahead that their steeds have already built up some momentum towards a soft canter when he appears.

For a moment the other boy just stands dumbfounded as they wave over their shoulders and laugh, leaving over the drawbridge and looping around the path back down towards the stables. Doug doesn't chase after them, but he does appear up on one of the wooden watchtowers, clinging to one of the wooden beams with his arms all the way around and overhanging the drop. They see him as they clear the lowermost gate and head out to the fork in the road, this time not headed left back to the way they came, but going right, towards the west.

As they start to head upon the open road, Lavi keeps an eye over his shoulder at Whiterun, noticing the shape of Doug hasn't moved from the shadow of the watchtower yet. Even as he turns his head away and focuses ahead instead of behind them, at the lone, ruined watchtower and Fort Greymoor near their path ahead, he still feels eyes on his back for a while yet, until they're so far away from Whiterun that even the form of a fully grown person gets lost in the obscured distance.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added some dates to the start of Chapter 1 and 2 to give an idea of timelines and will continue to do so whenever a date drastically changes. There's no major year change on this chapter so currently its still 4th Era, Year 189.

Heading out onto the open, wild road from Whiterun on their own was equal parts exhilarating and intimidating. For all the boasting Lavi did, traveling all the way to Rorikstead was unknown territory for both him and Deak, especially without guidance, and while they had a fairly good idea of where it was by looking at a map, a map and actually _going there_ were not the same things, exactly.

Still, so long as they followed the main road, they should be fine, he thinks. There are border guards, and possible patrols, that they could ask if they get lost, or other travelers. They see apothecaries, hunters, and mercenaries pass through Riverwood all the time, traveling from one place to the next. They could probably get directions if they truly needed them, and the crossroads usually had signs pointing the way, didn't they?

More than anything, Lavi remembered what Bookman taught him and Deak about navigating by some of the simpler things, like the direction of the sun. Feeling the morning sun at their backs and shadows cast ahead of them, he could easily tell they were headed west right now, following the main road past the old watchtower to the left of the road, a farmhouse on the right, and head stood the crumbling Fort Greymoor.

Lavi had heard something or other that the fort had probably fallen into disrepair after the Great War began in 4E 171, but no one really knew for sure. These days, it was more likely to be occupied by brigands or bandits, so it was best to steer clear of it. He kept that in mind as he steered Thuse down the road and kept a vigilant eye. At some point he saw someone who didn't look to be a soldier walking atop its walls, but there were no attacks or signs of danger, so he disregarded it and kept going, making sure Deak and his steed Regalia were close behind.

As they continued on, they came across a few men off to the side of the road, laughing and seeming to have a good time. It wasn't long before both he and Deak spotted cups and bottles of mead in hand. Some kind of drunken, merry lot. The men called out to them, as they stumbled about and jeered playfully, but Lavi thought better than to stop. Harmless or no, there was no point in taking a chance out here, and it wasn't as if they were going to join the drunken festivities anyway.

The road wounds its way down and around the base of the mountains separating Whiterun from Faulkreath, jagged, rocky cliffs rising up to their left, while the hilly tundra stretched to their right. Ahead, they could see the silhouettes of ruins and forts up on the hillsides and mountain tops, the two brothers testing each other on which ruin or fort was which. Eventually, they settled on the big one rising up along the horizon to be Fort Sungard, since it was the next nearest they knew of besides Greymoor.

It wasn't long before they came across a mounted Whiterun patrol, all lingering beside the road while two of them plodded along through the tundra scrub grass, perhaps on the trail of a criminal or suspicious character, or some dangerous wild animal like a sabre cat. Hopefully not, or it there was, hopefully it got scared off. Lavi would hate to think what might happen if such a nasty feline were lurking about, and if it might come after them. He knew he didn't want either Thuse or Regalia to get taken down, and least of all his brother Deak. He made a point to slow Thuse down a bit until the two horses were pacing each other side-by-side, keeping his eye out and voicing his concern to his brother.

Ironically enough, it wasn't long before the horses seemed unsettled, ears angling and noses flaring uncertainly. Their walking steps danced a little bit, and Lavi went on higher alert as they walked. Indeed, there were sabre cats about, but he didn't think they'd have to worry about them anymore. It took him a little bit to notice them, with their tan pelts that blended so well with the copper tundra tones, but there they were. Two of them, to be exact, splattered with blood and wounds and lying still. It was more the Orc near them that drew his attention more than anything.

He could see blood and scratches on the Orc as well, but the mer seemed to be standing strong regardless. Much better than the dead sabre cats surrounding him. Lavi and Deak exchanged a look, giving each other a shrug, before nudging his horse over towards the Orc. He was still wary, and kept some distance, but perhaps something good could come of it. He didn't get a sense of danger, being near to the Orc, anyway.

"Y'take those sabres down all by yerself?"

The Orc in question turned to look at them, sizing them up with a sense of disapproval, before grunting and turning his head up at them in a show of disregard.

"And what's it to little welplings such as yourselves?"

"I bet it was quite the fight," Lavi commented, looking at Deak. " _Fend mu... miik wah hiif?_ "

Deak nodded before turning back to the Orc, speaking up tentatively. "We could probably... help if ya got some wounds or somethin'."

The Orc only seemed to scoff at that, upturning his nose. "Don't waste my time. I don't need any help from the likes of you. All I want is a good death, something neither of you could provide."

The two could only blink at him in dumbfounded question, before slowly looking at each other and back again.

"If you're just going to stand there and gawk, then begone with you," the Orc continued, turning away and seeming to take the initiative to walk away despite his words to them to do so, leaving the sabre cat corpses untouched. Lavi and Deak sat by idly and watched the Orc go wandering off to Divines-only-knew-where from astride their mounts, Thuse and Regalia flaring their noses at the dead sabres and swishing their tails anxiously.

After the Orc was well and gone, Lavi slid from Thuse's back and went up to the cats, giving them a look over and giving their backs a good shove with his boot to make sure they really were good and dead. Deak wasn't far behind him, making a small, anxious noise in his throat in question as the two of them circled the big cats.

"Lavi, what're you doin'?"

The younger answered with a deft flick of his wrist, drawing his skinning knife out of hiding. "Y'gonna pass up perfectly good sabre cats jus' left to rot out on the tundra like that? Dumb Orc doesn' know what he's missing out on." He'd never really skinned a sabre cat before, only doing work on rabbits and foxes so far, so this would probably be a bit difficult. Still, they could probably get a good number of septims for their trouble.

"But what about the letter?" Deak questioned, glancing over his shoulder.

Lavi gave him an idle shrug. "We got another two days 'at the letter has ta be delivered... an' these pelts will fetch us so'more money for me to get that bow quicker."

Deak sighed and shook his head. " _Onikin_ will be worried if we're gone for too long."

"Don't worry about it," Lavi assured, taking his knife to the belly of the sabre cat, wrinkling his nose a bit at the smell. "We won't take long, right? An' we can finish th' pelts later. Jus' won't be able to haul the entire sabre cats. They're too big fer either of us to lift ont' the horses even if we wanted to, and that'd slow us down just as much."

Deak sighed. "I guess."

"So help me get these pelts an' big fangs an' stuff."

* * *

The better part of the day was spent skinning the sabre cats of their pelts and harvesting other parts off of them, from the fangs, to the eyes, and some of the bones they managed to dislodge. It was all a messy affair, and one that didn't go without earning some attention from passersby. All the same, Lavi and Deak were very protective of keeping the pelts, and tying them off to the horse saddles despite the protest the horses put up at the scent of it. It took a bit to calm them down at first, but after a while the horses allowed them to do what they needed.

For the most part, they left the rest of the skinned corpses out for scavengers to pick at. It took no time at all for a fox and a few eagles to swoop down for the kill, and likely wolves and other things would show up for the meat soon enough.

Lavi and Deak continued on their way from there, covered in a bit more blood and bits than they cared to openly admit, but not too much to resist teasing and trying to gross the other out about it. Explaining the blood away to the guards at the next border gate was a little bit more of an issue. The fact that the two of them were traveling unaccompanied appeared quite suspicious with them also stained red, but after a brief inspection, it seemed to be written off easily enough.

The two boys decided to stop and wash themselves up a bit in a small stream further down after that, not wanting to be covered in blood and juices anyway, but certainly not when it would slow them down and raise suspicions.

Soon after they passed through the first Whiterun border gate, a road sign indicated to them not only were they on the right track for big places like Solitude or Markarth, but also Rorikstead. Reassured that they were getting much closer, they soon passed the next border gate, jagged cliffs and scattered pines steadily turning into smooth, tall hills and more scrub grass. At first, they thought they saw another mounted patrol just off the side of the road, but after the animal's scattered, realized they were wild horses.

Guessing the name of another fort they spied on the far, high horizon was a little more difficult than the last. Having never been so far out, they had trouble remembering other places it could be, guessing things like Red Eagle Redoubt, then getting into an argument about whether _Bleakwind Rock_ was an actual place or made-up on the spot.

It was even less of a debate however on a small basin in the land off to the right of the road where a tall, black stone pillar stood, clearly some kind of landmark, but for exactly what, the two were left only to speculate, as there were no other remarkable things about the place where it stood to suggest what it might be. The only notable thing about it was the very top looked to be shaped in an eagle's head, clearly of old Nord craft.

It was a nice argument to pass the time however, as they climbed the cliff, leaving the stone pillar behind them as they continued around the bend.

As the sun began to set, only the gentle hills of the Whiterun Tundra to their right and the rolling slope of the Reach's northern hills surrounded them, a gentle breeze blowing through. The next bend in the road around a taller rock face finally revealed their destination in stone-brick buildings and grass-thatched, farmhouse rooftops: Rorikstead.

Their first introduction to the village wasn't entirely uneventful.

As the shadows of dusk crept down from the hills, the sun dipping towards the horizon, something unaccounted for by the sun slunk through the brush behind the houses. Lavi spotted it first: a scraggly, black form slinking forward on all fours. At first, he thought: a dog. Then, he realized, a _wolf_. That realization came moments before the creature ran and lunged with a snarl, scattering a flock of chickens across the road, one that it took a hold of in its fangs and quickly snapped its head to still the creature in its jaws.

It was still several moments before anyone seemed to realize what was going on, stalled with confusion and realization yet to dawn that Lavi had already had time to process. He gave Thuse a few solid kicks in the side, commanding sharply, " _Tusron!"_ , ignoring a startled yelp from Deak behind him.

Trembling and dancing under him for a moment, Thuse bundled himself up before lunging into a full-on sprint, ears pinning back and snorting out protest, but obeying nonetheless. Lavi quickly drew his dagger from his side, adjusting his hold on it, and angled himself to the side of the saddle. Thuse danced a bit the last few steps from the wolf, refusing to get much closer, but it was close enough.

With a deft swipe, Lavi slashed his dagger along the top of the wolf's head as it leapt away with a startled yelp, which escalated into pain. Squealing in fright at the sudden turn of attack, it scrambled on its back, found its paws again, and bolted away into the brush yowling and keening. Thuse danced about on the path, ears flicking to and fro and tail swishing, until Lavi finally calmed the animal with soothing words and pats to its shoulder and neck.

A few of the farm laborers broke off to see that the wolf had really fled, making a bunch of noise and yells, while some went over towards Lavi, and Deak who rode up next to him a moment later. Among those that approached was an elven woman, who appraised them with a shrewd look.

"Fast to act, for one so young," she commented, in a smooth, almost haughty sort of tone. She hummed, looking them over silently before glancing over at her frightened, fluffed flock of chickens milling about, clucking and croning unhappily. The one that the wolf had gotten a hold of wasn't dead, but didn't look to be in great shape either, flapping on the ground and quietly crowing in distress. "Unfortunate nobody caught on quicker... but at least that wolf will probably thing twice before coming back here and trying to pick anything off. You have my thanks."

Lavi couldn't help glowing a little bit as he slid down from Thuse's saddle, Deak soon to follow and press up against his side with a small noise of pride and affection, while the laborers gathered from seeing that the wolf really ran off. The group was quick to notice the two boys and horses, but no one else.

"A little bit young to be out all by yourselves, aren't you?"

"Nuh uh," both piped up at once.

"We're deliverin' a letter," Deak spoke first.

"An' we go out on our own all the time. I's no big deal."

"A letter, you say?" the elven woman inquired curiously.

The two boys nodded, Deak reaching into his saddle bag to pull out the letter and smooth the parchment a bit, before reading over the name. "For a guy named Mralki?"

"Ah, yes." She nodded her head, directing them to the second building over on the right side of the road. "You'll want to go to the Frostfruit Inn, then. Mralki is the innkeeper there."

They nodded in turn, grabbing the reigns of their horses to tug them along. "Thank you!"

"Hold on a moment-" she interrupted, before they could go far. The laborers were already dispersing, either going back to work or some heading off to the inn themselves. "Do you boys plan on staying the night in Rorikstead?"

They each blinked and tilted their heads at each other before shrugging.

"I guess i' wouldn't really be a good idea ta be travelin' all the way back ta Whiterun at night."

"Well, you did save me some trouble from that wolf. Perhaps I could repay you in a small meal for the evening. My farm does well enough, and all the better the wildlife will be thinking twice of trying to change that."

Deak hummed thoughtfully, tempted, while Lavi whispered quietly, " _It'd save us some septims at the inn tonight._ " Deak nodded his agreement at that.

"We'd be happy to join you for dinner!"

_Dinner_ was composed of some boiled eggs, cabbage potato stew, and a small goat meat pie. The elven lady in question was Reldith, the owner of Cowslip Farm, which was doing well enough to outsource its crop surplus to Whiterun. Reldith preferred to manage the farm work, while another cohort of hers, Ennis, handled trade and business affairs.

Reldith wasn't the only farmer in Rorikstead, but she was by far the most successful, and it was between her and the local innkeeper that Rorikstead got a steady amount of business in town as people passed through traveling between Solitude and the other holds. A lot of the food at the Frostfruit Inn was supplied locally - but where Reldith owed them thanks, the innkeeper himself did not.

It would at the very least cut how much coin they'd be spending while they were there for the night. At 60 septims for a single room with a single bed, it definitely made up the difference. Lavi couldn't help being a little bit peeved - their letter delivery only paid out 50 septims. That put them further behind than what they gained from this job, if not for the sabre cat pelts they'd picked up, and spent the better part of dusk and early night cleaning off remnants of fleshy bits outside until the cold became too much.

"Should'a jus' gone out huntin' or picked up some odd jobs in Whiterun..." Lavi complained as he cleaned off his skinning knife. "Maybe choppin' wood."

Deak hummed from his seat off to the side of the bed, yawning and propping his chin on palm. "It was fun travelin' all the way out here though, wasn't it? We've never been as far as Rorikstead before... especially not without _Onikin_."

"Yeah, but we're no closer to gettin' that bow than we started. Jus' even further behind."

Deak gave a small little shrug. "Well... the sabre cat pelt's'll probably earn us a few coins, so it ain't completely worthless, right?"

"I guess..." Lavi grumbled, giving his skinning knife a last inspection that it was all clean before slipping it into its sheathe. Leaning his back against the wall of their room, he glanced at the pelts sitting on a chest nearby. He hoped they'd bring in good money, but he didn't even know if they'd skinned them completely right... some of those fur traders were really shrewd about the quality of their pelts and how they were handled.

"I'm sure they'll be good for bringing some money back with us," Deak hummed, shrugging again and slouching in his chair.

Lavi blinked slowly, humming. Bring some money back, huh? What a... stroke of pure genius.

"Yeah... what a great idea."

Deak made a noise of question as Lavi motioned him closer with one wiggling finger, the other twin sighing and standing up to move to the bed and sit down next to him. Lavi caught him in a headlock, drawing him closer before falling into a whisper.

"If we gathered up a few coins, I bet'cha the furs would keep 'em from making t'much noise."

Deak made another questioning noise in his throat. "Gather up a few coins from where?"

Lavi gave a long-drawn hum, less thoughtful and more leading towards a conclusion. "There's a lotta people in this inn, i'n't there? I bet they're travelin' with some coin."

Deak gave a whine as realization struck, giving Lavi an incredulous look. " _Onikin_ wouldn't be happy with us!"

"Don't worry about it," Lavi assured quietly. " _Onikin_ doesn't have ta know. Nobody but us has ta, an' they probably won't notice us 'at much."

Deak pursed his lips unhappily. "But what if we get caught? What if we get in trouble?"

Lavi gave a little shrug. "Won' be much different from collectin' small things like we did sometimes at Nightgate, ya?"

"Yeah, but..." Deak paused with a small whine. "We jus' _borrowed_ stuff 'til people came lookin' for it. We didn't steal it for good! How can we give it back if y'plan to buy that bow with it?" He's not dumb enough to not know that's why Lavi wants it.

"We can always pay it back later, after we get that bow an' go hunting with it. After we get that bow, we'll be catchin' game an' pelts for makin' money in no time at all."

Deak gave him a look like he wasn't so sure that'd really happen. "I dunno... if we get caught, we'll get in trouble for it. What if they throw us out? Or what if we get in trouble with the guards and end up in jail?"

"You worry too much," Lavi huffed. "We won't get caught. You just... draw some attention or somethin', an' I'll take the stuff if you're so worried."

Deak gave a small, indignant squawk, though he still kept his voice down. "Why do I have ta draw attention?!"

"So no one's lookin' at me, 'at's why." Getting up, Lavi wandered to the door and poked his head out, Deak trailing at his heels. Lavi was silent for a moment before looking back at his brother. " 'ere's thirteen people here. A few of 'em 'ave gotta be easy t' get some coins from."

Deak gives his shirt another little tug, pursing his lips. "Lavi, _mu fend ni..._ "

" _Don't worry_ ," Lavi responds, roughing his hair. "It'll be fine." Lavi hummed in thought, looking around the inn and trying to decide on a good way for the other to play distraction. He spied a bunch of steps going up onto a loft near the front door, which overlooked the entire inn. That'd draw everyone's attention towards the ceiling, and away from him. He gave Doug a little nudge and pointed to it. "What if y'went up there and sang or something?"

Deak sighed, wringing his hands over the bottom hem of his shirt. "Sing what?"

Lavi shrugged a bit. "I dunno... jus'... pick a song an' sing it. We heard plenty when we were at Nightgate or went ta Windhelm, right?"

"I s'pose..." Deak muttered anxiously, before getting shoved out of the room by Lavi. He gave his brother an uncertain, unhappy look before wandering over to the steps, not largely noticed except for by his bright orange hair as he went. It made reaching the loft fairly easy, leaning on the wood railing overlooking the inn. He could see almost everything and everyone from up here, but everyone could also easily see him. He supposed that was the point.

Taking in a deep breath to calm himself, he started out singing a bit tentatively, his voice barely raising above the din of the other noise at all.

" _Oh... there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red... who came ridin' to Whiterun from ol' Rorikstead..._ "

He paused as he saw Lavi, who'd taken the time to cover his own bright orange hair with a more dull, brown cap, waving subtly from across the way for him to raise his voice up a bit. He pursed his lips and nodded a bit.

" _Oh, there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who came ridin' to Whiterun from ol' Rorikstead!_ " Lavi motioned at him to keep going as a few people started to take notice. He cleared his throat on the pause that the song had to it by design.

" _And the braggard did swagger an' brandish his blade, as he told of bold battles and gold he had made! But then he went quiet, did Ragnar the Red, when he met the Shieldmaiden Matilda who said:..._ "

He was starting to get a few whispers and questioning looks, but people were looking at him more and more. He took another breath, trying not to watch Lavi too closely, in case anyone followed where he was looking.

" _'Oh, you talk and you lie and you drink all our mead, now I think its high time that you lie down and bleed!'_ " Hopefully that wouldn't be them soon, with the guard coming to get him. Oh, this was a terrible idea. " _And so then came the clashing and slashing of steel, as the brave lass Matilda charged in full of zeal! And the braggard named Ragnar was boastful no moooooooree... as his ugly red head rolled around on the floor!_ "

Bard songs were never terribly long and for a moment afterwards, he fumbled over whether he should try something else or stop. He glanced at Lavi, who motioned for him to keep going. He pursed his lips, trying to think of something else. It wasn't exactly a bard song, but something they learned off of Bookman. Maybe something new would get some good attention. With the old Ragnar the Red song everyone always sang, mostly there seemed to be boredom.

He cleared his throat loudly as he could, trying to find his voice as he thought of the words.

" _...Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by his honor is sworn, to keep evil forever at bay. And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's shout, Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!_ " That at least seems to catch some more attention than before. He swallows nervously, but forces himself to keep going anyway. _"Hearken now, sons of snow, to an age, long ago... and the tale, boldly told, of the oooone!_ "

He definitely had people's attention now. There was some whispering again, some glances, but also a lot of _interest_. More importantly, nobody was watching Lavi, as he started to move along through the adults with care.

" _Who was kin to both wyrm and the races of man, with a power to rival the sun. And the Scrolls have foretold, of black wings in the cold, that when brothers wage war come unfurled! Alduin, Bane of Kings, ancient shadow unbound, with a hunger to swallow the woooorld!"_

" _But a day shall arise, when the dark dragon's lies, will be silenced forever and then! Fair Skyrim will be free from foul Alduin's maw! Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by his honor is sworn, to keep evil forever at bay! And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's shout! Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!"  
_

It seemed as if not only did he have attention, but a few voices tentatively trying to add to his, feeling out the words. Maybe he could use this, it seemed as if Lavi was still going about and needed the distraction yet. He raised his voice again, going through the song from the start again. He wasn't wrong- some of them were trying to sing along after all. Pretty soon, he had them joining in the song with more confidence, some of them, the probable loudest of them, noticeably drunk, but that was fine. Pretty soon the inn was filled with several loud male voices taking the lead away from him, but it was fine.

After a while of their singing the tune, he slipped back down the steps discreetly, trying to avoid attention. He didn't quite manage it, a few of the men grabbing him by the arm and pulling him over to continue singing. He could only grin nervously and cast a quick glance around for Lavi, in a silent plea of _get me out of here_.

At some point, the men and their drunken merrymaking forgot about him entirely, so he was finally able to escape and get back to their room skirting the edge of the room. Deak couldn't help sighing and sinking against the wall. Lavi, at least, had a bit of a smug look of triumph on his face. Clearly, he'd been successful in their little plan.

Deak still wasn't very happy about it all, but he supposed it was fine so long as they didn't get caught, and singing in front of everyone was kind of fun, for a short while. He didn't plan on doing it again any time soon though.

Not even waiting for an invitation, he crossed the room over to the bed, sitting down and resting against Lavi's side tiredly. No, he definitely wasn't doing that again for a while, no matter how much Lavi insisted.

"You happy now?" Deak questioned. It had better of been worth all the trouble.

Lavi hummed, plucking fingers through his brother's hair and shifting to lay on his side, wrapping his other arm around Deak's back comfortably. "Yeah. Nobody 'as any th' wiser."

"I hope not," Deak sighed sincerely. He didn't want to go to jail and he didn't want to get in trouble with Bookman. Both would be bad. He still couldn't shake the feeling Bookman would be disappointed in them right now, but it made Lavi happy, so he supposed he could overlook it this one time.

Lavi lightly bumped his face against Deak's, humming softly and giving a yawn. " 'es get some sleep so we can go back t' _Onikin_ in the morning, hm?"

Deak nodded his agreement, snuggling into the blanket and against his brother until morning. Lavi was the first to rise and go get washed up, earlier than Deak would have liked, but he let Deak sleep in a little more before rousing him.

It was then as Deak was getting washed he heard the innkeeper arguing with his son, something about not being allowed to go out adventuring? He wasn't really sure. It wasn't his business anyway. He took his while getting washed, the water not exactly hot, but compared to the cold water coming down the White River in the mornings at camp with Lavi and Bookman and the horses, it was still heaven.

He returned to his room with Lavi to an entire juniper berry crostata, which Lavi was already happily getting into. His brother gave him a warm smile and invited him over by holding the rest out to him, which Deak took without a second thought and began eating.

"We should go home... so _Onikin_ knows we're okay," Deak hummed between mouthfuls. It was even still warm from the oven.

"We will," Lavi assured. "W'should stop at Whiterun on th' way though, an' see if these pelts will fetch us anythin' good. Maybe even enough t'get the bow."

Deak nodded, but was more focused on polishing off breakfast than responding. Pretty soon they had all their things gathered up and went out to greet the horses and get them ready for travel back home. The sun was still struggling to breach over the far horizon as they left Rorikstead behind them, Lavi singing a happy little tune under his breath as they went.

Curious as to his amazing mood, Deak couldn't help finally asking, "Had fun while we were here, did'ja? How many coins did y'manage to take? Twenty?"

Lavi couldn't help a large grin splitting his face, eye narrowing smugly. "Nah, nothin' like that..." he drawled, pausing for a long time, as if waiting for Deak to take another guess before finally saying how much. "Two-hundre' an' twenty six septims."

Deak's jaw almost hit the floor from astride Regalia's back. " _Two-hundre-_ " He clapped his jaw shut and looked back over his shoulder in worry. _Two hundred?_ "An' not a single person noticed?!"

Lavi grinned even more. "I's cuz I 'ad such a good brother distractin' everyone for me!"

Deak could only ogle at him with a wide eye, whispering _two hundred_ under his breath again. Gods, if they'd been caught...

But they weren't caught. They got away with it. Deak wasn't really sure how to feel about that, flushing hotly. They were dead if Bookman heard what they did, but somehow he didn't think Lavi was going to tell. Maybe he would. Divines, he sure _hoped_ Lavi wouldn't, especially not mentioning _his_ involvement.

"Well... I guess it'd be two-hundred and sixteen, since we lost ten cuz the inn room was sixty an' we only got fifty from the delivery job... but... its fine. We made more 'an we lost."

Deak sighed, shaking his head and trying to swallow his guilt. Its not as if they could very well go back and give the coins back now, right? Not that many...

"We're not telling _Onikin_ , are we?"

Lavi shrugged dismissively. "Nah. It'll be our little secret. _Onikin_ doe'n't need to know."

Deak hummed, both happy and unhappy with that answer. More than anything, he didn't want to upset their teacher. He supposed it was fine since they weren't caught though, but he never wanted to do that again.


	5. Chapter 5

Lavi didn't really share Deak's worry about the whole Frostfruit Inn incident. Nobody noticed, so it'd be fine. They could always repay it later if they had to.

Nobody had spared him any attention while he was going about picking pockets and taking some unguarded coins from under the counter, except for one hooded lady he'd thought better of trying to steal from. She'd been well-armored and armed with a good pair of daggers at her belt, and she was a little too alert to him, but he didn't think she'd caught him taking from anyone else's coin purses. If she had, she looked sketchy enough not to particularly care so long as he wasn't stealing from her, he thinks.

The Reach hills in the early morning were quiet, nothing of interest happening as the morning dragged on, save for a wild horse briefly crossing their path, before it bolted off into the tundra. The rising sun on the far horizon guided their path home just as well as the road did, warming them just enough to stave off the bitter-cold air left over from night, and at one point they matched pace with a Whiterun mounted patrol so they were free to relax their guard a little bit on the trek back to the city.

The most noteworthy thing to happen on their trip back was finding a wolf already dead by the side of the road, which they decided to pause long enough to haul onto Regalia's back so they could deal with skinning its pelt and harvesting other parts off of it later.

It was nice to see the familiar peak of the Throat of the World come into view, and the castle silhouette of Dragon's Reach at Whiterun city's greatest height greet them just ahead of the sun's glare. Farmsteads and rustic golden rooftops were soon to meet their eyes as they turned up the road towards the city gates. Lavi and Deak took their while to dismount and unload the pelts they'd gotten from the saddles, Lavi being careful to tuck his 'earnings' from Rorikstead away into hiding for now.

After selling off the sabre cat pelts, with the septims they'd already had and the amount Lavi had lifted, he had just enough for the bow, rushing over to the Drunken Huntsman as quickly as he could after bartering a decent enough price at Belethor's General Goods store.

"You boys have been working hard, huh?" Elrindir mused as he handed the bow over to Lavi, he took it eagerly and immediately held it close to his chest.

It felt subtly warm to the touch, just like he'd thought it would, magic faintly pulsing through it. He felt absolutely giddy finally having it in his hands. _He couldn't wait to use it_.

Not to entirely avoid Elrindir's question, Lavi nodded happily, giving the string a few light tugs to give the tension a preliminary test. "Yeah... we did. Worth it though." Deak only subtly shifted next to him, but he wisely didn't say anything on _how_ they'd earned it. Lavi was quick to turn on his heel to leave, tossing a wave over his shoulder. "Thank you!"

"Any time!" Elrindir called at their backs as the brothers left.

Leaping down the path, they ran to the gate to get back to their horses, only to find a familiar black-haired boy there petting each of their heads and getting gentle nose-nudges that almost bowled him off his feet. Not yet noticing the brothers, Doug laughed as he tried to keep his footing, cooing and talking sweetly to the animals, before he finally noticed the brothers approach.

"You're back," Doug greeted, before squinting his eyes at them and drawling out a question, "...from... Solitude?"

Lavi stuck his tongue out, while Deak shuffled a bit nervously behind him, kneading his shirt again.

" 'at's right. We went all th' way there and back!"

Doug hummed, watching them with narrowed eyes for a few moments more, before he shrugged a bit and went back to giving Thuse and Regalia attention. "Nah, I don't think that you did."

Lavi flustered a bit, narrowing his eye and scowling. "Did too!"

"No, I think you're lying." Doug gave him a cheery little smile. Lavi would dare say something bordering on smug, even if it outwardly seemed polite in its own way. "Your eye tells me."

"An' just what's that supposed to mean?"

Doug giggled a bit, dropping his hands from petting the horses and giving the brothers a small shrug. "Just as I said. Your eye tells me you're lying. I bet you never really did go to Solitude."

Lavi huffed aloud, crossing his arms over his chest while Deak couldn't help a small snicker behind him, falling silent when Lavi gave him a look over the shoulder, almost as if to silently say _Traitor!_

"Maybe we did an' maybe we didn't. Still a lot further than you'll ever go."

Doug hummed, pale blue eyes flicking between them as he tucked a strand of black hair behind his ear. "Probably not further than I'll _ever_ go. In fact, I bet it won't be long at all before I go to Solitude for real, or maybe a lot further. My father's a Priest of Kynareth after all. My travels would probably be blessed by Kyne."

"Oh, so you're one o' _those_ ," Lavi jeered, grinning at him and sticking his tongue out. "Le's just see you go anywhere cool, priest's kid!"

Doug huffed, sticking his lip out in a pout. Before he could get a word in about it, Lavi was already continuing, taking out his new bow.

"See 'is? I'm gonna use it to go all kinds o' cool places, like a _real_ adventurer!"

"So you've got a bow? What's that supposed to prove?" Doug questioned.

Lavi grinned at him wider, looking around for something to test it on. There wasn't anything by the front gates that he could get away with lighting on fire. Everything was either a wood structure or a flag, and he remembered Bookman talking about how burning a flag was considered a high and sometimes unforgivable crime. Better not to make enemies with the entirety of Whiterun. He'd have to find something else.

Jogging down towards the stables, he raised his fingers to his lips and whistled for the horses to follow, both perking and settling into a slow trot after him, dancing in place whenever they caught up. Reaching the stables, he looked around for something easily replaceable to shoot, and nothing was moreso than a log from a log pile.

Setting it upright on a rock, Lavi took a breath and drew his arrow, nocking it back while Doug and Deak stood off to the side, watching. He poised himself at the very first fence post to the stables, about fifty feet back, and took a moment simply to focus.

"Bet he'll miss," Doug whispered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Deak shrugged and folded his arms behind his head. "Nah. He'll get it in one."

Lavi smirked before letting the arrow fly true, hitting its mark and making the point of impact burst into flames. His triumphant grin was mirrored by Deak, before they both leapt into a small hook-armed dance around each other, with Lavi cheering, "It works! It works! It works!"

Doug huffed, jutting his lip out again in a pout, but he was quick to get over it and give them a small, little-bit-impressed smile. "...okay... maybe I was a little bit wrong."

Lavi stuck his tongue out again, drawling out another _bleeeeeh_ before turning and running to climb onto Thuse's back, gathering up the reins and ignoring an indignant sound from Doug. "Y'were a lot wrong, Priests' boy!"

"Its _Douglas_!" he called after Lavi, running to catch up, but Thuse had already leapt into a canter and Regalia was soon to follow as Deak scrambled onto her back. "And just wait! I'll get a sword and become a great adventurer too! Then one day you'll be impressed by _me_!" The only response to answer him was laughter that faded with every bound the horses made heading up the road towards Riverwood.

* * *

The forest floor was mottled in splashes of light and dark, sunlight filtering through the tree branches above. Lavi barely dared to breathe as he crouched in the brush, his bow in-hand but relaxed. Somewhere a woodpecker rattled its back against a tree, and the bitter-cold wind from the barrow on the mountaintop tickled his skin and rustled the ferns and tall grasses.

The lonely shack this side of the White River still stood deceivingly vacant, but he and Deak were sure someone lived there and had probably been by recently. All the same, the absence of anyone inside made a few alchemy ingredients - some a little harder to come by - easy pickings before they went on to slink through the brush looking for pheasants to hunt.

Every step was carefully placed and fern leaf moved out of their way silently so as not to startle anything away. The birds were all chirping their songs into the afternoon, but it could've easily been louder. Certainly, the animals that could see them knew they were hunters, and didn't want to be prey.

Climbing up onto a log on an earthy overhang turned up nothing worth immediately noting, the only noticeable movement being the undergrowth swaying in the cold breeze. Lavi and Deak quietly dropped down to scour further down, but still, the pheasants eluded them.

The lakeside was easily visible further down the hill, as were a flock of ducks lazily bobbing along the surface of the water, and with his bow and arrows, they would be far easier to kill this time. It was tempting to be sure, but he figured they'd try for a little bit more difficult target for now first. It would provide a better learning experience, as Bookman was always telling them, than taking the easy way out. Besides, the ducks probably wouldn't be going anywhere far anytime soon.

Its while he's watching the ducks further down that he spies a splash of rusty color bobbing and pecking through the ferns. _Pheasant!_ Its far enough away he doesn't worry about it startling before he's loosed his arrow, so long as he doesn't make too much noise or movement. He quickly draws it and aims, being careful to make his shot count the first time it flies, and with his fire-enchanted bow, there's no way its flying off after its been struck.

He hits his mark and hears the bird screech and flutter briefly and fall silent. He silently thanks his skill and luck and goes to retrieve it. Hopefully, the rest of the day will go just as well for hunting.

Skirting the foot of the mountain and a little bit up into the hills doesn't lead them to more pheasants as they were hoping, but it does turn up a dug-out in the shadow of some jagged rocks, a deep hole leading into the ground. Curious, Lavi hums and creeps towards it, examining the immediate area around the hole and finding what looks like claw scratches in the soil.

"Wonder what made this?" His voice is a whisper as he glances at Deak, while his brother shrugs.

"Think it could be a bear?" The suspense in Deak's voice is enough to almost make him shiver, but after a moment he attributes that more to the cold mountain air than being afraid.

"...I guess it could be." Tilting his head forward, he gave the air from the tunnels a few sniffs, wondering if he might be able to pick up anything. "...doesn' smell like a bear." Pausing and gusting out a quiet sigh, he trails his fingers over the scratch marks. "I think these are too small t' be made by a bear too."

"Sabre cat?" Deak breathed nervously.

"Sabres don't dig dens. Or at least... I don't think they do?"

Deak swallowed before sighing and trying not to look too nervous. "Wolves, you think?"

Lavi hummed in consideration. "Could be... or maybe Skeevers."

Deak wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I don't like Skeevers."

"Think there's anything inside? I think it... stinks kinda like something lives here."

"Then maybe we should leave it alone?" Deak suggested hopefully.

Lavi drummed fingers against his thigh in thought. "What if we crawled inside and find out what's in there?"

Deak gave him a small shove to set him off balance. "That's a terrible idea!"

Lavi snickered and shrugged, seeing if he could easily crawl through. "...you say that about all my ideas."

If not for the fact he was worried about being heard by some vicious animal and mauled, Deak might've pressed the issue further. Instead he drew his dagger and followed after. Inside, the tunnel was large enough for them both to crouch forward without too much strain, and the further down they went, the more they were able to hear running water.

The tunnel soon opened up into a small cave, with a skylight and snow melt trickling down as a small waterfall into a pool below. Lavi held his breath and reached back to gently tap Deak and get his attention, looking ahead.

Lingering just outside the light of the hole in the ceiling was a wolf. A _very large_ wolf.

They were both careful to move close to the wall, one after the other, behind some boulders at the water's edge and peek around. Neither spoke to each other verbally, but Lavi tapped him again and signaled _Ready?_

Deak gave him a wide-eyed look as he slowly, quietly drew an arrow from his quiver, laid it down and took out a few more one at a time, so as not to make a great deal of noise. That in itself was still enough to make the wolf stand more at attention, craning its head up to sniff and growling quietly. Both were sure the animal must've heard their pulses pounding, but Lavi was as focused ahead on it as the wolf would likely be upon a deer or a rabbit.

Lavi prepared his first arrow, while Deak anxiously drew his dagger from his belt, and let the first one fly.

The wolf squealed aloud in pained surprise as the arrow hit its mark, aided by the fire enchantment in his bow. Both boys watched it leap into the air and whirl, trying to bite at the offending arrow in its side. Lavi took full advantage of the animal's confusion to loose another arrow, watching the animal jolt around the other way now, writhing and snapping its fangs.

Lavi got in a third hit before the wolf leapt to its paws and took off towards them, snarling and yelping. Deak was ready. Trembling, but ready. A dark colored light flicked to life in his hand, a spell that Bookman had been teaching them. In only a few moments, another wolf was in front of them, but this one was ethereal and ghostly, glowing a bright blue.

While the real wolf in front of them stalled and regrouped to attack, realizing who and what was in its den, the summoned Familiar charged in and tackled it to the ground. Ghostly and physical fangs snapped and snarled, tearing at fur and plasma alike as the two beasts struggled in the dirt. Lavi readied his arrows again, this one finding the wolf's eye.

It keened and howled as the Familiar took it by the throat, viciously shaking and twisting its head until the wolf fell still. Only afterwards, and once the Familiar disappeared, did Lavi and Deak allow themselves to let out a breath they had both not realized they'd been holding.

Still, not to be careless, Lavi gave the wolf a few hard shoves with the far end of his bow before they got any closer, and rested an ear against its side just to be extra careful. It took both of them to drag the wolf out into the light, and when they did they couldn't help but think of how _massive_ it was even compared with other wolves they'd seen. Its belt was a speckled silver and black as well, with touches of rust coloring rather than the usual black pelts they were used to.

"I can't believe we did it..." Lavi breathed, still a little short on breath as if he'd run a long way.

"I can't believe we _tried,_ " Deak berated. "Gramps would be so mad with us."

Lavi couldn't help laughing a little bit. "...we should bring it to him and _show_ him."

"What?" Deak squawked. "Why?!"

"Why not?" Lavi gave him a shrug. "We killed it, didn't we? An' its impressive, you gotta admit! He'll be proud! An' I bet'cha this pelt would sell for _a lot_."

Deak couldn't help but sigh and shake his head. First stealing, now this? They'd be lucky if Bookman let them out of his sight again, even if he didn't know about the first thing. Still, Deak couldn't help feeling that he was _suspicious_.

"How are we even gonna get it back? Its huge, there's no way!"

Lavi hummed, standing up and stepping around it, carefully trying to work the arrows out. He'd probably damage the pelt though, so he settled for breaking off the ends for now.

"I'm sure that between the two of us, we could do it..." He grabbed a front leg and tried to roll it onto his back, but the damn thing was heavier than he was and he couldn't help gusting with effort. "...you... get that side... an' we'll _crawl_ if we have to!"

Deak sighed and shook his head, but complied anyway. If there was one thing he knew about Lavi, it was that once he got something in his head, nothing and no one was gonna stop him.

Crawling on all fours, they managed to make steady progress from the wolf den below Bleak Falls Barrow to the bridge crossing the White River near the location of the Guardian Stones as the sun was setting. It was far from an easy task, and the sun set faster than they could reach Riverwood.

Lavi couldn't help feeling a little bit frustrated at how long it took just to reach the border gate, and that in itself almost ended in trouble.

As they started to come down the road, at first there was silence, and then the sound of drawn blades and shouting from the guards about _the wolf_. Lavi blinked and paused, sitting up from underneath the wolf. He was greeted with skidding boots and armored guards stopping mid-swing to see him, it taking several moments for them to figure out what they were looking at.

Deak gave a small, concerned squeak behind Lavi as he poked his head out too and the guards relaxed a bit, dropping their arms down to their sides and blades with them.

"Gods! You boys need to be more careful! We'd have almost cut you in two!"

Lavi couldn't help swallow a little at the realization of just how much _almost_ was, but he hadn't really thought anything of lugging the big, dead wolf past the gate.

"What's all this then?"

"We went hunting!" Lavi piped up, unsure if he'd read disbelief in the guards' faces or not. It was hard to tell with the helmets on.

"And you took down this wolf?" one of them questioned incredulously, looking it over. "All by yourselves?"

"Yeah!" Deak chirped behind him.

"Took it down inside its _own den_ ," Lavi added, putting on a tense voice, like telling the climax of an exciting story.

One of the guards snorted. "Right... and I once had a horse that could fly."

Lavi huffed and puffed his cheeks out indignantly.

"We did, though!" Deak vouched.

"An' we're gonna take it back to our gramps an' show him!"

The guards nodded in a humoring sort of way, smiling and crossing their arms as they resumed their posts. "Right. You do that. But be more careful, yeah? Someone might not see you under there like we almost did."

Lavi nodded, readjusting his hold as they resumed their arduous crawl back to camp.

Bookman, suffice to say, was equal parts impressed and mortified by their not-so-little prize.

"You crawled _inside a wolf's den_?" Of all the reckless things for these kids to do!

It was difficult to be mad seeing the sheepish brightness on their faces and eager nods. Looks of pure accomplishment, and indeed, the wolf was quite large for its kind. He looked between it and his two students with a gusty sigh, humming in a way that said he disapproved.

He didn't want something so dangerous to be a habit... but all the same, he was proud of his boys that they were able to pull something like this off, and without getting mauled. Fixing them both with a look, triumphant expressions having turned into slightly nervous ones, he shook his head. What to say at a time like this?

"...I'm very proud of you both. You've both shown a great level of skill if you truly did this yourselves." He gave them a few moments to glow at the praise uninterrupted, before taking a swing to the top of both of their heads in reprimand. "But don't ever do something so foolish again! Really now... you two could have easily been killed. Its any wonder I leave either of you alone."

From the way they both gripped their heads and winced at the scolding, he was sure they'd remember it, but all the same, it wasn't enough to totally erase grins from their faces at their accomplishment.


	6. Chapter 6

**4E 190, _Old Hroldan Inn, The Reach_**

" _Lavi!_ " Deak couldn't help casting a glance over his shoulder, before trying to lunge for what his brother had in-hand again. "Put it back! Before we get in trouble!"

"I'm only looking," Lavi brushed him off in the same whispered tone, holding the book out of reach and using his back to keep Deak away from it. "I wanna see what all the fuss is about!"

"But its _not yours_!" Deak insisted, trying to dodge around his side to no avail. Lavi was more than used to maneuvering just the right way to get the result he wanted. He hated how Lavi would just pick through people's things like they weren't going to get in trouble for it, even more when he actually _took_ something. One day they were going to get caught and be in trouble, with the guards, or worse, by Bookman. "I'll tell _Onikin_!"

"No you won't," Lavi deadpanned, flipping through the pages of a little book he'd found called _The Lusty Argonian Maid_. If he had a septim for every time Deak talked about crying for Bookman...

Well, he did, albeit not from Deak, but that was beside the point.

Looking through its contents, he couldn't help snickering a bit, lightly elbowing his brother in the ribs. "Hey... we should try this."

Deak gave him a small, indignant squawk of question. "Try what?"

"Reading this. Its a play, I think. It seems like fun."

Deak sighed aloud. "Are you going to put it back afterwards if I say yes?"

Lavi gave a small shrug. "Sure."

Deak rolled his eye, but squeezed underneath Lavi's arm to look it over, humming. Lavi started without first asking if he was ready, putting on a higher, almost girly voice. Deak assumed it was to play the character that kept showing up as _Lifts-Her-Tail_.

" _Certainly not, kind sir! I am here but to clean your chambers!_ "

Deak couldn't help giggling a bit at the voice, struggling to say the next lines himself at the pure ridiculousness of it. "Is that all you have come here for, little one? My chambers?"

Lavi huffed and elbowed him again. "No, not like that! Put on a big voice! Like a grown up!"

"Why?"

"Cuz that's the character!"

Deak shook his head, rolling his eye before clearing his throat and putting on the most ridiculous man-voice Lavi had heard in a long time.

" _Is that all you have come here for, little one? My chambers?"_

Lavi had to fight to keep from buckling over laughing. _"I have no idea what it is you imply, master. I am but a poor Argonian maid!"_

Now he had Deak snickering and fighting to keep up the voice he was putting on. _"So you are, my dumpling. And a good one at that. Such strong legs and shapely tail!"_

"I do have great legs, don't I?" Lavi adlibed playfully, getting a shove from Deak.

"That's not in the script!"

Lavi stuck his tongue out. "Is now!"

" _Hinzaal_."

" _Gahrk_." Returning to what was in the book, Lavi continued on, swooning back with a hand on his forehead dramatically, " _You embarrass me, sir!"_

" _Fear not!"_ Deak wrapped an arm around his side and pulled him closer, though his eye was on the book, " _You are safe here with me!_ "

" _I must finish my cleaning, sir. The mistress will have my head if I do not!_ "

Deak grabbed the nearest broom and shoved it in his hands. "Here you go."

" _Lorot hi los ful mindosaal_!" Lavi exclaimed under his breath, lightly swatting Deak's head with the bristly end of the broom when he started snickering.

" _Cleaning, eh?_ " Deak continued, shoving the broom back at Lavi against his chest. _"I have something for you! Here, polish my spear!"_

 _"But it is huge! It could take me all night!"_ Lavi proclaimed woefully. They didn't get any further than that, interrupted by the innkeeper marching over towards them and shouting angrily.

"You! Where did you get that?"

Both Lavi and Deak jumped, dropping the broom onto the floor and hiding the book behind their backs, pressing together to better hide it.

"The, uh- the broom was-" Lavi began to explain, before she cut them off.

"The book," she announced, holding her hand out for it and tapping her foot impatiently. "I doubt very much your parents simply let you have it, and the whole inn can hear you carrying on! I won't have something so distasteful being told aloud inside my inn! As it is, children of your age shouldn't be reading such things!"

Lavi put on the most innocent face he could muster, and Deak wasn't far behind in doing the same.

"Why not? Its just a story, isn't it? I don't know why you're so upset..."

The woman sighed and shook her head, continuing to hold her hand out until they held the book out for her to snatch away. "At your ages, I should hope you wouldn't know..." She gave them another look before turning to head upstairs, leaving the two of them alone again. Lavi made certain to stick his tongue out after her as she left.

"I _told_ you we'd get in trouble," Deak hissed, grabbing his cheek and giving it a pull, ignoring the brief noise of protest from his brother, and the couple of swats Lavi gave him.

Lavi gave a soft grumble, rubbing his cheek as Deak went about collecting their things to head out soon, just as soon as they'd had breakfast. Lavi gave him a little grin either way, jabbing him in the side and making Deak jump as he passed.

"Yeah... but she did fall for the 'playing stupid' trick."

"Won't work forever," Deak pointed out, huffing and smiling in his own deceivingly innocent way. "But I suppose it did."

* * *

Today, the ride was shared by both boys atop Regalia's back, Thuse trailing along on a lead behind them with a loaded saddle. To be going so far as Markarth, Bookman had given them this particular delivery job himself. The morning air in Markarth's rocky hills was crisp, but not terribly cold. Nothing like The Pale they were so used to, and that they sat together in the same saddle helped stave off the chill.

Giving a content hum, Deak rested his chin on Lavi's shoulder while his (slightly) younger twin reclined back against him, blinking a half-lidded eye lazily at the road and enjoying the views as they came and went.

The Reach was nothing at all like either the Pale or Faulkreath, even as rocky as the Pale was. Where the Pale had single tall, towering peaks that separated Nightgate Inn from the Sea of Ghosts to the far north, the Reach was nothing _but_ rocky slopes, standing in sharp jags and deep ravines. Scraggly, near-leafless trees clung stubbornly onto cliff faces while a thick mist hung onto the road and along the river it flanked and obstructed the sky from view, making it appear much cloudier than it likely was.

At no point during their slow trek through the hills, down and up steep slopes, could they not hear the sound of waterfalls or the river nearby, gushing along at a swift pace. Even had Bookman not warned them of the region's hazards, they had read books about the _Madmen_ who lived in these parts. The native Forsworn people.

It wasn't impossible, but difficult not to be wary of the very cliffs themselves, wondering exactly what a _madman_ would look like. Would they come screaming down the cliffs like the swoop of a hawk? Would they come climbing from the river like mudcrabs to snap at the ankles of their horse? It was probably better not to think about it too much, but Markarth was a long way from home. It was difficult not to, but it must not have been a _huge_ hazard if Bookman trusted them alone out here. Besides, they could probably outrun them on their horses. They didn't hear a lot about the Forsworn being mounted.

They kept to following the path Bookman had indicated for them before they left, eyeing side-trails and branches in the road with inquisitive wariness, but sticking to the direction they were supposed to be headed in.

The main road eventually took them across a small bridge, while a waterfall cascaded down the cliff jags to their left with a soft roar. Just beyond, the road climbed steeply upward, into the higher cliffs and far above the river's flow. A sign at the next fork in the road pointed them left, naming their destination for certain: _Markarth_.

As they crested the top of another steep slope upwards, they passed a mounted patrol and caught their first glance of civilization since Old Hroldan through the mist just ahead. It looked to be a windmill, or maybe a grain silo, and just beyond that, the silhouette of tall mountain peaks.

Even heading into early afternoon, the fog hung so thick they couldn't make out the city until they were almost upon it. Huge Dwarven-style stone walls marked its front gates, and beyond the walls, the most prominent structure was that of a tower stretching far towards the sky.

As they came up the bend of the road, a few shorter towers where guards stood watch greeted them, as well as a double pair of tall stairs leading up to the front gate. What structures they could barely make out the rooftops of were carved and mounted directly into the side of the mountain beyond the walls, but it was difficult to see past them at all. From what they could tell of the front, the city was not largely expansive like some others. Certainly, Whiterun and Windhelm seemed much larger to surface appearances, as these cities were their only good points of reference, but they had heard much of the city was _within_ the mountains themselves.

Its lackluster size must surely be an illusion. In actuality, it was a sturdy, well-established _fortress_ whose humbleness ended where its outer walls began.

Dismounting Regalia at the stables, they tugged Thuse alone up the stone steps, having to take their time a little more as the Fell Pony found its footing while also lugging their delivery on its back. The guards stopped them at the gate, saying they had to leave their horse outside the city. It became a simple matter of dismissing the usual rules when they showed their delivery letter and explained that it was too heavy for them to carry inside themselves, and it became apparent that the guards didn't want to bother with being pack-horses themselves.

Entering the city for the first time was a little bit of a jarring experience. What the city lacked in overall width, which wasn't small to begin with, it made up for in height. Up close, it was far more apparent than it had been from afar.

A broad boulder, the size of a small hill in its own right, made up the centerpiece of town. Set into its side was a large doorway, beckoning with hanging braziers and pillars of smoke towards it. Far above it stood the tower that could be seen over the walls. On the other cliff faces were more like buildings, albeit a little more humble, built into the natural stone. Above the shops on street level were elevated pathways and sky bridges, traveling a good three or four stories up in multiple levels. Lavi was sure he saw a ladder somewhere up on one of the cliff walls leading above all of it, mentally marking it as something to explore later.

An aqueduct creek ran through the town street, heading down into a lower part of town, fed by various waterfalls cascading from the higher cliffs, likely from snow melt or rivers running through the mountains.

Before they could spend too much time gawking at the entrance, one of the guards who had been volunteered to escort them hurried them along with impatient words, leading the way along the road heading underneath the sky bridges. Their path followed the stream uphill and up some flights of stairs towards the highest point of the city, which was still maze-like despite appearing not very large. Whiterun was comparatively easy to navigate despite its larger overall surface size.

The further in they traveled, the more it seemed like waterfalls dominated the scenery, the cold spray making them and Thuse shiver as they passed. Even before they grew too near or it was announced to them, their destination - Understone Keep - became clear enough.

Set into stone just beneath one of the larger waterfalls were stone-column faces of clear ancient Dwarven design, that of an old man's likeness, with a long beard. The column funneled the larger waterfall from above into two smaller ones to each side, escaping from an elaborately carved wall that was crafted by Dwarven hands, not by nature itself. Far above, Lavi guessed at a pathway across the top of a wall, and there almost seemed to be a doorway out of the cliffs that opened onto nothing but air. He was deeply curious about that.

The gate into the keep shone a deep orange-gold, Dwarven metal, and to either side were green and gold banners bearing the crest of Markarth: a braided ram skull with horns twisting off of either side.

As they entered the Keep, the constant roar of the falls was exchanged for deafening silence, interrupted only by the oddest, echoing clangs in the distant halls like nothing Deak and Lavi had ever heard before. Otherwise, the fresh mountain air vanished underneath a veil of heavy dust, cold stone, and leftover mist from outside.

The guard instructed them to wait there, before heading down the gaping maw of a tall hallway off to the left of the entrance, leaving them alone with the Keep guards inside and a black-haired girl who eyed them and their horse curiously.

Lavi shifts a little bit where he stands holding Thuse's reins. Its Deak who greets first, with a little wave at the girl and a chipper greeting.

"Hello."

She purses her lips, looking a little shy for a moment and idly twisting this way and that where she stands for a moment. Finally she returns the greeting quietly.

"Hello."

Lavi and Deak exchange a glance with each other, before looking back at the girl, who looks a couple years younger than them. Then again, they've been known to be a little more on the tall side compared to kids their own age, so she might not be that much younger.

"What's your name?" Deak pipes in, ever the social butterfly.

She bites her lip for a moment, humming indecision. "Lenalee."

"That's a pretty name," Deak muses, before thumbing at himself. "I'm Deak!"

"And I'm Lavi," the other introduces.

She looks between them both, humming with speculative uncertainty.

"What's wrong?" Deak asks.

She hums again, kneading her hands, before retuning, "You both look the same. How will I tell you two apart?"

They glance between each other before Lavi grins at her. "You won't! It'll be a mystery! You just have ta guess!"

Deak considers refuting that _no she doesn't_ , they could just say who is who, but he refrains, instead going along with his brothers game. "We're both and neither at the same time!"

She purses her lips, smiling but also looking mildly concerned with how she's going to know which one she's talking to. They don't get much farther with her before the guard re-appears with another in tow. Certainly, the black-haired stranger is the tallest person they have ever seen, although he is built thin, not at all like the bulky, muscle-bound Nords they're most used to. When he speaks, his voice is high and chipper.

"Ah! So you two must be the young pupils of Bookman that I have heard about!" He regards them with a friendly grin that startles them both into taking a step back. "I'm Komui Lee, head excavator and overseer of the Dwemer museum. Its great to meet you both!"

They're silent just long enough for the man named _Komui_ to sweat a little, wondering if he had overplayed his introduction to the two small boys. Lavi is the first to introduce himself this time when they finally come back around to it.

"Lavi and Deak, huh?" Komui repeats with a small hum, sobering a bit as he stands with hands behind his back. "Well, as I said, its very nice to meet you. I do so look forward to the things you've brought me!" Indicating with a sweeping motion to a stairway to the entrance's right, he steps ahead of them. "Right this way! And we'll get those things unloaded."

Up the stairs and through a stone hallway, the unsettling silence of the entrance to the keep melted away under the sound of whirring and clanking. A steady rhythm of _clngk clngk clngk_ and the hiss of steam entranced them as they followed Komui into a large stone chamber. Massive Dwemer metal pipes crisscrossed through the floors and walls at various points, while a huge metal man stood poised in the middle of the room, even taller than Komui. Somewhere off to the side was a smaller metal skeleton poised on what appeared to be a metal sphere, while display cases took up various spaces on the walls, filled with all sorts of odd things. Some seemed familiar, but only from books and illustrations in Bookman's collection.

Komui stands proudly before the great metal man, beaming at the two boys as he shows it off like a huge, cherished toy.

"This right here is my baby! The infamous Dwemer Automaton! The very first one we've dug up from the Nchuand-Zel ruins! Of course... it doesn't actually work. There's no power source... but perhaps one day we will uncover one that does! I'd very much like to see it in action..." Komui sighed wistfully before motioning at a guard. "You there! Come help me unload our newest additions!"

Once they had taken everything out of Thuse's saddle bags, Komui almost squealed with joy at some of the new artifacts to add to his collection.

"These are wonderful! Truly exquisite! No one in all of Skyrim... maybe all of Tamriel has better eyes for Dwemer valuables than Bookman does!"

Komui didn't seem to be the only happy one. Thuse gave his back a good stretch now that the weight was off of it and shook with a small snort, almost as if to say _Finally!_ Lavi smirked at the animal before his eye was drawn to the girl from before hovering nearby with a shy hum. He gave her a smile as well, wiggling his fingers in greeting.

Its not long before Komui is in his face with a small growl. "You! Don't you be eyeing my little sister and getting any _ideas_ there, _mister_."

Lavi squeaks in surprise at his sudden hostility, backing away and shaking his head. Just what was he going on about now? "I wasn't getting any ideas!"

Komui fixes him with a withering stare, humming as if he doesn't quite believe it, but appears to give the benefit of the doubt anyway. "Good. I should hope not! There'll be none of that so long as I'm around!"

Lavi can't help making a face and looking at Deak in question, who merely shrugs in return. Who's to say what Komui is on about anyway? Adults are crazy.

* * *

"A hundred and twenty septims for a room and even the _damn beds_ are made o' stone!" Lavi complained, huffing aloud. " _Fos gaas tafiir_!"

Deak gave a small shrug. "I s'pose that's jus' the price you pay for staying at the Silverblood Inn," he dismissed more complacently, while Lavi was busy taking out his frustrations on the bedside table with jabs of his dagger into the wood.

"I should take every single one back..."

"Lavi, no," Deak moaned, rubbing his face with his hands. " _No_. Not again!"

"I should, though," Lavi insisted. "Innkeeper was a jerk on top of it, an' that's just robbery as-is! Should'a only had ta pay half as much!"

Deak whined aloud, grabbing him by the waist and falling over to drag him down in protest. "No... I'm not playing decoy for you again. I jus' wanna relax an' get warm and sleep so we can get back to _Onikin_!"

Lavi grumbled another complaint under his breath, setting his dagger aside somewhere so he couldn't accidentally fall asleep with it and stab either of them. "In the morning, then."

Deak cupped his face, squishing his cheeks in until his lips puckered. "No! Bad Lavi! _Nid gahrot_!"

Shoving him off, Lavi huffed at him and pouted, which did the exact opposite of undoing Deak's face contortions. "You're no fun."

Deak laughed a bit. "No, I'm just not a _criminal._ "

"Not a criminal," Lavi protested huffily, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mhm..." Deak humored disbelievingly.

Settling into the fur blankets and trying to get comfortable, Lavi finally relented and snuggled in against Deak with a sigh. Both of them wished a lot more for soft forest earth if they could have it over stone beds, but they wouldn't get anything better by moving to the floor, and outside was cold. They'd simply have to live with their overpriced, uncomfortable accommodations for now.

"No wonder the Dwarves went extinct if this is how they slept..."

Deak couldn't help snorting aloud at his brother's slight, petting his hair. At the very least, the pillows weren't stone too. Trying to find something to distract Lavi from the hardness of the beds, he couldn't help musing aloud, "Lenalee was really cute..."

Lavi blinked at him for a moment before giving a small, surrendering shrug. There was nothing to argue there as far as he could tell. "She was... but her brother is scary."

Humming, Deak yawned and rested his head down, blinking tiredly at his brother. "He's... kind of strange. I think I like him though."

Snickering, Lavi smiled. "Oh? If y'like him so much then y'should act on your crush then."

Deak flushed red at the accusation. "I- I don't have a crush!"

"Mmm-hmm..." Lavi drawled, unconvinced.

"I don't!"

"Bet you wanna kiss her," Lavi teased, making smoochy faces. He squawked indignantly when Deak planted a hand in his face.

"Maybe you're the one who _really_ wants ta kiss her!"

"As if!" Lavi retorted, shoving Deak's hand away from his face.

"Bet'cha do!"

Lavi paused for a moment, tilting his head a bit as if in thought. Deak gasped quietly.

"You _do_!"

Lavi shrugged and stuck his tongue out, tucking his arms under his head and stretching his legs out. "Maybe I do and maybe I don't!"

Deak sighed and shook his head, settling back down and wiggling in close, fluttering his eye tiredly.

"Wonder what its like ta kiss a girl..." Lavi mused quietly.

Deak shrugged. "Don't ask me. I don't know. Its all grown-up stuff anyway." He yawned widely before laying his head back down.

Lavi rolled his eye a bit. " _Grown-up stuff_. So's hunting they say, but we do it just fine."

Deak shrugged again. "I dunno... adults always make it sound so weird. They always get weird talkin' about kissing and courting and stuff."

"Dunno why," Lavi hummed. "I's all about when people love each other a lot an' wanna be a family or something, I thought. We love each other an' we're family but no one makes it weird."

"Maybe cuz we don't kiss?"

It was Lavi's turn to shrug. "I dunno what makes it different?" He idly reached fingers up to trace his own lips curiously. "Does somethin' happen when people kiss?"

"I mean..." Deak drawled sleepily. "Sometimes th' people doin' it can act kinda funny, so maybe?"

"Would we start actin' funny if we kissed?" Lavi wondered.

"I dunno, would we?" Deak returned, equally at a loss.

They both stared at each other for the longest time in contemplation, either moving, before experimentally craning their heads forward for a small kiss. It was awkward at first, trying not to smash their noses together and angling their faces, only to find they were both angling the same way and huffing at each other to go the other way or hold still. It wasn't more than a quick peck that lasted a few seconds before they were back to looking at each other like they expected something big to suddenly happen.

"Do you feel any different?" Lavi whispered.

Deak shook his head. "I's not anythin' at all, 'cept warm."

"Maybe we didn't do it right."

Deak grinned playfully and gave him a light shove, hissing quietly, "Maybe adults are just crazy!"

"Mhm," Lavi hummed agreement, sneaking his arms around Deak's back and giving him another quick peck, before tucking his face into his neck, breathing softening out. "I's not bad though..."

Deak gave a soft giggle and pecked his forehead, nestling his face into Lavi's hair and closing his eye. "It's not."


End file.
